Private Journal Entry- April 11, 2006- ANGST!

Mood: 

Scared

What am I doing here? What the FUCK am I doing here? I don't belong here. I came here to prove that I could take care of myself. All I've proven so far is that I'm useless. I couldn't even get myself out from under a stupid ironing board! And all the things people are telling me, people being attacked, things like that, I can't handle that. If someone came after me? First off, if they did it at night, I wouldn't hear them. And even if I did, what am I supposed to do? I can't run, I can't fight them off, I can scream, but who knows if anyone would hear me in time. All these people see is the poor little crippled girl who can't even talk right, can't do much for herself, they just either give up on me or pity me or make fun of me and I've HAD IT! I QUIT! I've had enough! I can't do this anymore! They're not gonna let me out of here, either. I signed something or other. They're not gonna let me out just cause I say "Oh, it's too tough for me, I want to go back to my mommy and daddy!" There's only one way out of here early. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened in here either, apparently. These are normal people, people who CAN do things for themselves, and they couldn't handle it. What chance do I have? If they tie me to a piece of meat hanging? I can't do anything about it. They come and get me in the middle of the night? They RAPE me? No, I can't stop them. Cute little god damn pollyanna girl, she's bait, pure and simple. They put me in here because I was an easy target. They know they can do whatever they want to me. I don't know what to do with myself right now. I'd try to kill myself, but I'm sure I'd find a way to screw it up somehow. And would anyone care? Nope. At this point, it's like, ok someone else is dead, just throw it in the dumpster or let it rot behind the washer. Dear God, please someone tell me what am I supposed to do? Just hide in here until I starve to death and hope someone notices the smell?