“I’m scared…I’m scared” That’s all that came out of my mouth while I was crying talking to Dad on the phone. I still couldn’t understand what he was trying to say to me. But there was only one sentence that came triggering through my mind.

            “M needs you. Think of your younger sister.”

            When I heard Dad say that through the phone, half of me was starting to say, “Think about what you’re doing. You know you don’t need to do this.” But then the other half was saying, “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know…”

            The next thing I know, my doctor is on the phone asking me over and over again, if she should call 911. As soon as I heard 911, my brain started going all over the place.

            “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I’m scared. I…I…”

            She had told me that I needed to make a choice about calling 911.

            “If you have me call them, then I will not get off the phone with you.”

            My doctor never left me on the phone. I didn’t care if I went over my phone bill. I didn’t care if it was for hours. I knew that she was with me the whole way. I now knew that I needed to talk to someone. Still crying I hear Her voice booming through the whole 3-story house.

            “What?! She is in her room! Sh-“

            I started crying even more. I’m so scared, what if she talks to the police out of the house? What if this time she takes it a step to far this time and physically hurts me this time.

            All these years with the yelling and blaming, I have been hurt and I try to never show it. The past was being thrown at me like a ton of bricks, but it was the past I never wanted to look back at. She blaming me for her ex-boyfriend leaving her. She blaming me that we had to move out of the house with her mother. She-

            My thoughts became cut off with a knock on the door. It wasn’t a knock from anyone in the house. It was a lot louder. I then knew who was at the door because the voice said my name like I was a felony and he said he wanted to come in. It was an officer. I hid the knife and I hid the keys.

            He stepped through the door. I feel like I’m hyperventilating. My breathing just starts to quicken like crazy. It won’t slow down or just stop all together. I’m crying harder than I ever had before. If there was award for this, I would win one for each minute going by.

            The cop looks at me and tells me to calm down so I can tell him what is going on. He looks irritated, bored. Like he could be doing something better than this. I tell him in between tears and deep breaths, what She said to me. What got me here in the first place. The officer looks at and says without a blink, he doesn’t understand the reason for me wanting to kill myself. He doesn’t understand the reason for me becoming very emotional. That he doesn’t understand the reason for me call my doctor for that matter. The man in the uniform who was supposed to protect me, didn’t even believe me…