Dear Charlie,

I don’t really know why I do that, but I think it can help me, like really. Talk to someone because I can’t talk to anyone.
Well, I don’t know why I start doing that, I know it’s bad, like really bad, but I guess it help me a little. I wish I could stop wanting me dead, stop thinking that I’m nearly the end of my time. I always think that “Only a couple a year since you’ll be free” it’s like since I’m a little girl I know that I’m going to die young. But I can talk about that to anyone because they don’t understand.
Plus I start cutting myself, not really badly but still. I scratch my arm. I lie to my bff about that, I feel awful… I want to tell my parents like “See I’m not ok!” But I know they won’t let me be alone again. I’m not good to myself, and daily I tell myself “You should be dead, they would be easier to everyone” but I don’t have the balls to do it. Every time I cross the road I pray that a car it me. But it never happen…
It sound depressing but I can’t be, I can’t because nothing in my life can tell that I can be like that. But I had a decent childhood, but … yea it’s like it is.