Alone, Broken And Unloved When I started to look around searching for signs of #life, praying not to see a body. I ran into my mums bedroom and there she was... Asleep, I heard her breathing so I calmed instantly but anger roared up my throat and I shouted at her to wake up. She opened her eyes, smiled at me and turned her back towards me and went back to sleep. What could I do or say? She was sick, not physically but mentally, she was acting out all the past hurts and abuse and there's was nothing I could say or do to help her and the meds she was on just made her drowsy and out of it most of the day. So I went back into the front room frustrated, and started to clean up the mess, the broken glass, the knife and old rotten food. I never felt so alone in the world. While I was sure my school mates were busy telling their parents about their trip and adventures I was clearing up the mess mum made in the front room and kitchen. As I went into the kitchen and started to clear away the rotten food, there I saw a Bacardi bottle, I grabbed it and downed it, fell in the corner and cried. For some reason I felt unloved, as if mum didn't care, my dad not sticking around to support me or care although forgetting he abused my mum. I was in a right state, I got the same knife mum left in the front room and started to press it against my wrist, but I just wanted to end the hurts and pain so I raised the knife against my neck wanting to, trying to and crying out, I pressed it with force against my neck...