Before my mother died, she used to tell me to be the person I want to be and don’t feel afraid to tell people what I feel like inside. I never really thought about what she told me until now. I’m only 15 and I live with my alcoholic step mom and my sex addicted dad. I’m a antisocial person. I never really hang out with my friends anymore, because I’m afraid they’ll know my secret. The biggest secret I keep is that I cut my wrist. The reason why I did it was because my dad. My dad raped me and I’m afraid to tell anyone, not even my friends. I just keep this feeling all bottled up inside. I know my friends talk bad about me behind my back. I know they say things about the way I dress and all. I don’t really care cause I’m invisible. No one will care about me so why should I care. One thing I enjoy doing is playing the piano. Something my mom taught me how to do. I drown out all the fights with my step mom and dad and actually get away. I miss my mom, and I wish she was still alive. Every night I pray that she will come back and I know that’s stupid but its true. Music is the best thing that ever happened to me. At school I’m nobody but I have this hiding spot where I can play an electric piano I brought from home and a acoustic guitar that my grandmother gave me before she died. Music is my soul. Almost is my family. Tonight my dad snuck into my room while I was asleep. I was dreaming about my mom and I thought he was my mom and then when I woke up it wasn’t her. It was my dad, a monster, a perverted man that I called dad. I couldn’t move because he was so strong so I just laid there until he was done. When he was done. I played moms lullaby in my head to soak out all the pain. But I kept feeling that pain in my heart, burning until it was done. I couldn’t take that pain and so I ran from my room, out from the apartments, and on to the roof where the world around me thought I was invisible. I stepped on the edge of the building, gripping the rails behind me. I decided to let go. Let go of all the pain, let go of all the suffering, let go of me. I fell from the tall building and the only thing I thought about was my mothers lullaby playing over and over in my head until I hit the ground. So I ended all the suffering, all the pain and regret of being here and decided that I’d end my life. That’s what it feels like to be a ghost...

© 2008 Tia Walker

This is a story i wrote