Important note- I am in fact leaving this city very soon. I no longer wish to stay in such a place where my own mental state is held against me in such a way it is here. Currently I have no set location, but anywhere is better than the Hell-hole I'm currently residing in. I have to leave as soon as possible though. If they find out I'm leaving then this is the end for me. The only reason I want to put this out for people to see is so in the circumstances that I go missing, or anything of the sort... You know where to look. Check the building, the closet, the sewer. I'm still underground. I'm still watching. They are watching my every move. Fabrication and elaboration are key. I'm leaving. No one will fucking stop me.

Sometimes, I still think about what happened nearly 7 years ago. When I was just a child, my innocence had been stolen from me. I was still new to the country, having only lived here for 6 or so months. My english was still not perfected, and I knew only basic phrases. I hadnt been enrolled in school yet, so I spent my days playing outside, alone with only what I could find. On occasion, a cat would pass through and I would pet it and say hello. My parents allowed me to take my bike to the park down the street, which I enjoyed. I would sit in the swings and watch the young children and their mothers play. It was calming, and I  almost envied it, in a sense. Being a child, of course, I broke rules. I was allowed to go to the park and back, nowhere else. There was a small store though, just another block down. I had been there before with my parents, to get a candy or a bag of ice. I had a few dollars I had found around the house that my mother allowed me to keep. In an almost proud way, I rode my bike all the way to the store and bought myself a cherry lollipop. The man that always stood behind the cash register was strange, and I could always see a bit of weed on the counter, as he tried to hide it. There was always a slight smell of the smoke, which I didnt like, so I left as soon as I could. On my way out I took the lollipop and put it in my pocket and planned to save it for my later trip to the park, so I wouldnt grow hungry while swinging. I had decided I would go around a sidestreets ally to get to the park, as it seemed much quicker in my head. I did feel somewhat scared, as I had never been that way before. I thought to myself that nothing could happen, and I believed it. While in the ally, which was dirty and trash covered, two men in a truck drove slowly next to me, which at the time, didn't seem too unusual to me. They asked for directions, but I couldnt understand to where. One stepped out of the car with a map and asked to point out the way to the next city over. I tried, but wasnt really aware of what was going on. With my back turned, the man in the passenger seat got out and grabbed me from behind, hushing me and holding a switch blade. He assured that everything would be okay, but in that instant, I knew it would not. I thought to myself over and over, "I'm going to die. Theyre going to kill me." That hadnt happened, though at times I wish it had- in that case, I wouldnt have to live with the trauma and constant fear of assault. My eyes filled with tears as the second man put his hand over my mouth, nearly making me hyperventilate from my already manic terror. My legs were weak and I couldnt move an inch. My knees trembled in fear that no one would know that I had died. I thought it was over. The ally was rid of any life, other than my own and the two men. No one came through this ally. No one would see me, no one would hear me if I could scream. The first man grabbed me by the waist and took my jacket off, which at this point had already been tear stained. At that point, my shoulders were shaking and I could barely compose myself. I had no idea what was coming for me. I had no idea how much this would rip my life to shreds. I felt completely void of any emotion other than fear, and was paralysed. The second his hand touched me, nothing felt real. It all felt like a nightmare. Everything was so surreal and completely horrid, I could swear the sky turned black in pity of me. I felt a trickle down my leg, and I had wet myself before I had a chance to stop it. At that point my skirt was pulled down and I had truly been violated. With a slip of the tongue, my voice finally came back and I cried, begging them to stop. They didnt care that this hurt. They didn't care that I was a kid. I kept on pleading for them to let me go and that I wouldnt tell anyone, but my pain was ignored. Eveything felt tight and pained me. I felt the course discomfort breaking me more and more every second. It had only been a minute, but I was already ripped apart by their distorted and forced infliction of lust. I was lost. This was tormenting me. Every physical aspect and mentally as well. This wasnt smooth and it didnt feel good.  I felt a sharp pain in my side, and shrieked as blood ran down my side. I now had a stab wound, probably so they could get me to shut up. Everything felt dragged out far too much. I wanted it all to end, but I had no control over anything, and hadnt for a while. The first guy grabbed me by the neck while the second took his turn destroying my psyche even more. A slight but sudden rush of shock ran through me, as I felt all of him inside me. I couldn't breathe and no longer could take this. It was too much for me, and I was weak. The man holding me by the neck choked me for a second, and then threw me to the ground. My face was washed in dry tears, my mouth slightly open from the shock. I felt completely numb at that point, and didn't move. The guys got back in their truck and sped off. I never saw their licence plate, I never would be able to report this. Even if I did know it, I still couldn't report it. This was my fault. If I had just been an obedient child, if I had just listened to my mother... Maybe this wouldn't have happened. I blamed myself completely for what they did. My bike still thrown to the ground, trash piled around it, I tried to get up and get it. I still layed there, left for dead. My shirt was bloody and my skirt and underwear were soaked in urine. I had no way to get home. I decided I would try and wait out the pain. My parents were both working late, so they wouldnt know that I didnt get home before my curfew. Cyndi was still by herself at home, though. I had to go to her. My parents told me to make her lunch, which I had forgotten until that moment. I forced myself to stand, though I was beaten and bruised. I shakily picked up my bike and walked it the rest of the way through the ally. I wiped the blood from my side with my jacket and squeezed what I could out of my skirt, so I could look decently presentable walking down the street. Deep down, I knew what I looked like though. I looked defeated. I looked broken. To my luck, I didnt pass anyone on the way home. No one saw me in my greatest pain. I finally arrived home, after limping most of the way. I locked up my bike, which was now even more scratched and dirty than it was before. I walked up the stairs to our apartment on the second floor. I had forgotten my key, so I hastily knocked on the door, hoping Cyndi would hear me. I heard her run to the door and she looked out the window and smiled, glad that I was back. She opened the door, and greeted me with a hug. I flinched for a split second, at that point I was afraid of anyone touching me. But I knew Cyndi meant good. She asked me if I was okay, and I lied. I told her I was fine, and that I had just fallen while riding my bike. I asked her not to tell mom and dad, which she agreed to. I went to my room and changed my clothes, putting the dirty ones in a bag. I shoved the back into the back of my closet, hoping no one would find them. I changed into my pajamas and brought myself to the kitchen, made Cyndi her food, and went to bed. No one would find out. This would stay a secret. I would suffer in silence, alone, for the rest of my life.

Today, as I sit here typing this, telling the world about what happened, I still shed tears. Everyone believes I'm an emotionless robot. I'm not. I have feelings, but, I hide them. I don't want to burden people with all these heavy emotions. When I put on this blank mask, I am intimidating. When I show my face with true emotions, I am vulnerable. I have no choice but to conceal myself. I took off that mask today, though. When I opened a box, and found that brown paper bag with the clothes from that day. The blood smelled metallic and old, the urine stale. For a second, holding those clothes pained me. I felt trapped again. I felt like a liar. I thought back to the days before that. When Cyndi and I could be happy. When she didn't know about what happened. I did eventually tell her, when I thought she was mature enough to understand. She was there for me when no one else was. She was the only person I could trust. And I lost her. Because of me, she's gone. If I hadn't contaminated her mind with the idea of us running away and finding a better life. Cyndi, I'm sorry. Mom, dad, I'm sorry. Everything is my fault. Its my fault this family broke. The lights are off and I'm sitting here, talking to a computer screen. I'm so lonely. I'm always going to be alone. I lost it all for nothing. If you've read this whole thing, thank you. At least someone finds my words worthwhile.

Though it seems I had come to my demise, I assure you all, I am still here. Ive been distant, recently... I've nearly given up everything I have worked for. I have lost sight of what all of what I have wanted. And, though, yes, I wish to leave at times, I have wished death upon myself and others. Yes, I have nearly given up. I am still here though. And though time and time again, I have betrayed so many, I will not let that stand in the way of my escapism. I will leave this place, I assure you of that. These people cannot keep me chained down. I will avenge all of the horrors that have crossed me. Cyndi's death will not be the end of me, Leezi's departure from my life will not hurt me this way any more. I know I have nearly lost it all, but I still have myself. Not much left of me, might I add, but, still, here I am. Every drop of blood that has been spilled within these years, have coagulated. They matter no more. The dreams that have been shattered, have been thrown out. They matter no more. In all my years of trying to restore the life I once had, I have decided it is no longer what I want. To dwell on what I once had will do no good. I will accept and never forget what had happened to my dear sister. It is my fault she is gone, but I have come to accept to fate that she so dearly met. With this outlook on life though, often being contradictory, I've been left with no choice but to, as well, just accept it. Of all things I have done, leading Cyndi to her death, is the worst. I do apologise, about this.