Contour Of My Life
First of all, i need to warn you that this is a sad story, but it is meaning nothing. I just using this little place tell a little story that i have never mention to anyone.
(Advice only, please don’t count it in the 500 words, thank you.)
Starting ten years ago, something really strange happens in my house. There are a variety of damage, it can be a dish, a bowl or a floor tile got some crack on it, even the doorframe can scratched or dent. And my mother think that all the damages are made by me.I keep on try my best to tell her i am not the one who broke the things. And she just not believe me. She said that the house only living me and her, she will never break the things, so it only can be me.
But I really do cherish my family and my house. When we moved to the new house, all the interior-decoration was made by my mother, my woody bed, my woody desk are all made by her, she gives me so many love, gives the house so many love too, why I need to damage the things in my sweetie home? I will never and ever do that.
The truth is, my mother think that i am a psychopath. Because of that fabricated charge, she called the police for many times and bring me to the hospital many times, she want me see the social workers, psychologist and psychiatrist. Even i need to living in dormitory for a several weeks because of that fabricated charge, she kick me out of the home.
Now, everytime when she criticize on me, I give up to retort her, I just listening without saying any words. However, something growing in my brain. I start to query myself, am i really have some problem? Am i a psychopath? Maybe i really do breaking somethings in the house i just don't know. Or am i schizophrenia, there maybe another personality living in my body i just don't know. This kind of having a bee in my head push me hate myself so much, i can’t help stop thinking that i am a sinner, i should not live in this world. Eveytime when i am in a high building, or standing on the street corner waiting the
(Advice only, please don’t count it in the 500 words, thank you.)
Starting ten years ago, something really strange happens in my house. There are a variety of damage, it can be a dish, a bowl or a floor tile got some crack on it, even the doorframe can scratched or dent. And my mother think that all the damages are made by me.I keep on try my best to tell her i am not the one who broke the things. And she just not believe me. She said that the house only living me and her, she will never break the things, so it only can be me.
But I really do cherish my family and my house. When we moved to the new house, all the interior-decoration was made by my mother, my woody bed, my woody desk are all made by her, she gives me so many love, gives the house so many love too, why I need to damage the things in my sweetie home? I will never and ever do that.
The truth is, my mother think that i am a psychopath. Because of that fabricated charge, she called the police for many times and bring me to the hospital many times, she want me see the social workers, psychologist and psychiatrist. Even i need to living in dormitory for a several weeks because of that fabricated charge, she kick me out of the home.
Now, everytime when she criticize on me, I give up to retort her, I just listening without saying any words. However, something growing in my brain. I start to query myself, am i really have some problem? Am i a psychopath? Maybe i really do breaking somethings in the house i just don't know. Or am i schizophrenia, there maybe another personality living in my body i just don't know. This kind of having a bee in my head push me hate myself so much, i can’t help stop thinking that i am a sinner, i should not live in this world. Eveytime when i am in a high building, or standing on the street corner waiting the