January 15, 2012

I tried to kill myself last week. I took the dirty, no longer white, sheet off my bed and made a noose. I almost got out, almost escaped. The sheet was tied around a beam in the ceiling. I had it around my neck.. I stood on my cot, prepared to breathe my last. I was too late.

Ryan, my Monday torturer found me. He roughly grabbed me, and "saved" me.

I wish he hadn't.

Him wasn't happy when he found out. He walked in with a look I didn't like, and struck me across the face. Him ordered Ryan and some of the others to escort me to 'timeout.'

I was locked in a room; no lights, no bed, no food, little water. Six miserable days I was locked in there. And it's all my fault. Him came again. Sunday.