I'm received news that I'm finally being released today. But frankly, I'm since I landed myself in the hospital, doctors and nurse keep close tabs on me since I am a suicide case. But I don't care. I learned at a young age that no one gives a damn about you. It wasn't a easy lesson to learn when your age four. By age six I stop caring when my devil of a father beat me up day in and day out. Sometimes he beat me till I was black and blue. Did anyone care? Nope. Niether do i. I do admit I get flashbacks occasionally. But I know my worth. It's nothing. Not a damn thing to anybody. The only thing that bring me joy is cutting. Unfortunately, I can't do that with these nurses keeping an consent eye on me damn. My wound is stapled and taped so I can't do any more damaged.
The social worker came by the hoisptal today. Her name is Ms. Motorola. But I can call her Maria. She simply explain why I've been place foster care. For one reason, it's seems like my parents disappeared. Second, child abuse. The evidence was all over my body. From my face down to my mess up ankle. I ask her when is my new foster parent coming. She simply reply, sometime in the afternoon. Maria talked some more about my case and the findings of what both the doctor and psychologist observed.I didn't have no comment at all so I dozed off. When i awoken up I glanced at the time. It read 1 pm. I moan in pain wishing the doctors would give me more meds. Not in my condition they say. I was bored out of my mind so I started to peal the taped located on my wrist where I my wound is. I was halfway done till...
"Stop!"
