I went through a very rough time growing up. My mother was killed on the job when I was eight years old. My father was very sick, so inevitably he brought in someone that he thought would make my life easier. He brought in his new "girlfriend" who began beating me. She had claimed that my fathers illness was entirely my fault.
I believed her, and brought myself to believe that when my father passed away I was supposed to as well. When my father died, I came to the stunning realization that that wasn't the case at all. I started writing poetry, short stories, and songs to cope with such.
If you choose to read this, that is fine, I however, do not care. This is just an easy way for me to keep track of my writings. (I normally lose my journals).