HOME | DD

Description
Ok, so some crap has been going on with my sister and I lately. In the past week, she's told me that I care about nothing but myself, insulted me, and sreamed in my face about "stealing the dog" over twice every single day.
So, just drawing my emotions.

The chains holding me back represent me trying to escape but being lockec up in the place in time in wich I'm the victim. The victim of her fallowing me around only to talk about me and insult me. She fallows me saying things like "you only care about yourself. " "nothing is good about you". I don't know what I did!!

The big weight ball represents the weight of the stress she's been throwing at me. She constantly breaks my stuff, and literally steals things. She's broken my clay figures before, and even my drawings. She tore a drawing of mine right in my face once. I'm constantly worrying if she'll break Scout Freak or Laika.

And the muzzel. The muzzel represents the fact that I cannot speak to her. She never listens. I've told her my side of this story ten times now, different peices. Different pieces of my story has been told. She. Never. Listens. I'll tell her what I think about something. She'll of course ruin it and say a bunch of bs that isn't true and act like she knows what I'm thinking 24/7. Yeah sure, I do say the wrong thing sometimes. On accident. But she? SHE purposely tells me crap on purpose to make me feel like sh¡t. And I hate it.

The tears represent my sadness and anger twards her. I feel like she hates me while I try my best to make her happy. I don't even know why she is such a brat to me when I sit in the corner and wish the day to end. All so I can wake up again, and experience yet again, the same old ting.

The dark room I'm trapped in represents the emptiness I feel when I'm around her. She hates me. I know it. When I try to show affection, she mimics it. But only for the day. Then, I say one thing wrong and it's over. I know she hates me because my dad asked us both the same question. "Do you love your sister?" He asked me first. Almost instantly, I said, "yes. I try." He then asked her. Do you know what she said?! In an almost sarcastic way, she replies "well she's my sister." He repeated himself in a more firm voice. "Do you love your sister?" She then said nothing and covered her face to be a crybaby. My dad asked again. Nothing. He went over to her. Held her. Asked again. She was finally persuaded to say yes. But I don't believe her. She couldn't say it. She couldn't say it and mean it. That's when I thoughtaout it.

Now, the writing. Me. I'm speaking. She has now mentally thrown me in jail, cha7ned me up and put a muzzel on my face. She has beaten me, and killed me inside. She has ruined me. And I still don't understand why. Ad she still is treated better. Better than me. When I try to avoid being slapped with another wave of bitterness each day, she still gets treated better than me.

Before you ask, no I'm not depressed, just very tired of her killing me. And yes, I've talked to my parents. They said they're gonna put her in therapy to hopefully make it better. But....when?

Description
Ok, so some crap has been going on with my sister and I lately. In the past week, she's told me that I care about nothing but myself, insulted me, and sreamed in my face about "stealing the dog" over twice every single day.
So, just drawing my emotions.

The chains holding me back represent me trying to escape but being lockec up in the place in time in wich I'm the victim. The victim of her fallowing me around only to talk about me and insult me. She fallows me saying things like "you only care about yourself. " "nothing is good about you". I don't know what I did!!

The big weight ball represents the weight of the stress she's been throwing at me. She constantly breaks my stuff, and literally steals things. She's broken my clay figures before, and even my drawings. She tore a drawing of mine right in my face once. I'm constantly worrying if she'll break Scout Freak or Laika.

And the muzzel. The muzzel represents the fact that I cannot speak to her. She never listens. I've told her my side of this story ten times now, different peices. Different pieces of my story has been told. She. Never. Listens. I'll tell her what I think about something. She'll of course ruin it and say a bunch of bs that isn't true and act like she knows what I'm thinking 24/7. Yeah sure, I do say the wrong thing sometimes. On accident. But she? SHE purposely tells me crap on purpose to make me feel like sh¡t. And I hate it.

The tears represent my sadness and anger twards her. I feel like she hates me while I try my best to make her happy. I don't even know why she is such a brat to me when I sit in the corner and wish the day to end. All so I can wake up again, and experience yet again, the same old ting.

The dark room I'm trapped in represents the emptiness I feel when I'm around her. She hates me. I know it. When I try to show affection, she mimics it. But only for the day. Then, I say one thing wrong and it's over. I know she hates me because my dad asked us both the same question. "Do you love your sister?" He asked me first. Almost instantly, I said, "yes. I try." He then asked her. Do you know what she said?! In an almost sarcastic way, she replies "well she's my sister." He repeated himself in a more firm voice. "Do you love your sister?" She then said nothing and covered her face to be a crybaby. My dad asked again. Nothing. He went over to her. Held her. Asked again. She was finally persuaded to say yes. But I don't believe her. She couldn't say it. She couldn't say it and mean it. That's when I thoughtaout it.

Now, the writing. Me. I'm speaking. She has now mentally thrown me in jail, cha7ned me up and put a muzzel on my face. She has beaten me, and killed me inside. She has ruined me. And I still don't understand why. Ad she still is treated better. Better than me. When I try to avoid being slapped with another wave of bitterness each day, she still gets treated better than me.

Before you ask, no I'm not depressed, just very tired of her killing me. And yes, I've talked to my parents. They said they're gonna put her in therapy to hopefully make it better. But....when?