Life of Dakota

*Dakota's POV*

*Several days later*

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING FACE YOU DISTGUSTING CHILD! GO TO YOUR ROOM!" Perry (my new foster mum) screamed in my face and slapped me across the face. I cried in pain and ran to my room. Wait not my room. The old disgusting attic at the top of the 3 bedroom house. Perry and Shaun only have one child in this family household and they have one room for her and a room for themselves! Have fucking unfair is that. They won't give me the third room because they're horrible. But when the social worker comes to check on how I'm doing here, they fucking act all nice and make it out as if I love it here.

My 'room' is so bare. I only have a bed (that isn't even comfortable), and a titchy wardrobe. I tip-toed to the bathroom and locked it so no-one can get in. I pull up my sleeves and reveals faint cuts and bruises on my arms. I feel so terrible now. My body aches all over because of the beatings I receive from Shelby (foster sister) and my foster parents. I didn't even do anything to them. They all this for no reason! They don't even care about me. They only fostered me to get some money out of the government, which was suppose to be for ME?! But instead they spend it on themselves. I silently cry for a minute or two then I pulled the cupboard open near the sink. I'm not proud of this, but ever since this started, I haven't been myself and I've started to self harm. Hurting myself makes me feel more relaxed.

I got out Shaun's shaving razor, and switched it on. The sound wouldn't of been heard by anyone because they're all in the living room blasting the volume of the TV. I draw it down my arm three times and watch the blood seep out. The pain doesn't bother me anymore because I'm use to it. I carry on for several minutes then cleaned my self up and put the razor back. Then I ran back to my room.

Notes