C0NNECT10N_L0ST

@CONNECT1ON_L0ST hey how have you been? You disappeared on me and I'm just checking up on you and I'm wondering if you wanna continue our rp as well. 

No mms re sidosos los pajaros djkahs literalmente están cantando a las   n u e v e  d e l a   n o c h e
          Está como para que me conviden de lo que se fumaron djak

walked for a while until I ran into the mother of an old friend, as she knows me she let me pass. I told her everything that happened to me and she helped me. We made the complaint for domestic abuse. I still had an injury from my mother so that was enough for them to believe me. For now I am living with my friend. I have gained weight and recovered a bit of color since I suffered from anemia, I also recovered my studies! So I'll try my best to make up for all this lost time and excel as much as I wanted to in the beginning. I hope you read this and understand my situation. Please, if you suffer from the same situation as mine or worse, seek help. Even if it is not running away, there is no need to suffer for things that are not true. Att; Ash convoy

On the first of October I decided to escape from my house to commit suicide. I had already tried repeatedly but neither method worked for me. Cutting your veins takes a long time, even if you use hot water. I had no ropes and no firm place to hang without failing. Sleeping pills are expensive and no longer give you a fatal overdose. Bleach tastes like hot water mixed with a whole packet of salt and soda on top (obviously that implies that what I actually felt was the acid burning my tongue). My only way out was to be hit by either a train or a car ... However, I couldn't do it. Just thinking that others might die too made me feel worse. They would not only blame me for something I did not do, but also for a fatal accident where there was a great possibility that I would survive (which was going to be worse). So I started wandering the streets waiting for some madman to try to rob me and end up killing me.

I no longer went to school either, I lost three years of study. I got stuck in second year of high school. Nor could I socialize with anyone online or even have social networks like any boy my age, my mother thought that I was after her boyfriend and that I would do "anything" to contact him when in fact I was doing everything possible to avoid bump into him or even hear him. When he left we ran out of money, so my mother began to blame me for being poor. According to her, I was a whore for wanting to get up to her boyfriend because I was ugly, that nobody loved me and that is why I only had to hang out with older and foreign guys. But how was he going to think about that at age 11? I did not even care, and currently I do not care, having a partner because that implied wasting my time as an artist, besides the simple fact of thinking about that type of "relationships" had disgusted me for a long time, never in my life would I have it crossed my mind to do that much less to my mother. It would be the sickest thing a person could do ... But hey. My mother thinks I "tried to do it". She had even threatened to kill me repeatedly and hit me multiple times for absurd things like erasing photoshop (this time she hit my legs with the broomstick, and it wasn't even made of wood, but metal.) Or making salty food. I lost a lot of friends and basically all contact with society. I was not eating either, and if i did, it was once a day.

My mother took control of the matter and instead of throwing him out, she ended up locking me in my late grandfather's room, a place whose space was fucking small and was in poor condition. There are no windows and the walls are falling apart. The bed and a couple of furniture barely fit in to put a few clothes. She forced me to be locked up there for five and a half years until the pedophile who lived with us left. In the meantime I had to endure meaningless insults, beatings and scolding for simply running into the accident while on my way to the bathroom. John, of course, used to spend a lot of time at his house, he went to the bathroom when he wanted, he left the room, he went to the kitchen ... On the other hand, I couldn't even go to the bathroom if he was there. Many times I had to relieve myself in a thermos that I used for school and throw everything away when they went to sleep.

[Translated this to English with google 'cuz i'm lazy af]
          
          Finally the time has come to tell everything. Finally, after so many years, I am free from the constant torture that I experienced thanks to my mother ... My name is Milagros Mir, but you can call me Ash or 'MsBunnyHead'. I am a 16-year-old girl who, thanks to God, managed to escape and find a refuge with kind-hearted people. I have been living in isolation from society since I was six years old. The bullying by the teachers at my school was something that affected me a lot, especially when one of them abused me when I was just starting school. And my mother, who forbade me to get together with others for things as simple as the appearance or the work of the parents of those children with whom to play was something common in my daily life. However, everything changed when my grandfather died. My older sister left home when she was 18, so it was just me and my mother. We were living on the salary of a boyfriend that my mother had in Peru until a short time later he came, staying with us for a long time. At first everything was fun. Since I didn't have a father and my grandfather had died, he had become my new role model. His name was John and he was very good to me and my mother, however soon after everything turned out to be a sham since he had only come here to have a better job and take advantage of me and my mother. His intention was to rape me. And as a minor (this happened when I was only 11 years old) I did not believe that he had those intentions, but my mother noticed that the guy was very strange and began to suspect until he confessed it to her. 

El primero de octubre decidí escapar de mi casa para suicidarme. Ya había intentado hacerlo reiteradas veces pero ningún método me funcionó. Cortarse las venas toma mucho tiempo, aún si te pones agua caliente.
          No tenía cuerdas ni tampoco un lugar firme como para colgarme sin fallar en el intento. Las pastillas para dormir son caras y ya no te producen una sobredosis mortal. La lavandina sabe a agua caliente mezclada con un paquete entero de sal y encima gaseosa (obviamente eso implica que en realidad lo que sentí fue el ácido quemar mi lengua).
          Mi única salida era morir atropellada, ya sea por un tren o por un auto... Sin embargo no pude hacerlo.
          El tan solo pensar que los demás también podrían morir me hacía sentir peor. Ya no solo me echarían la culpa de algo que no hice, sino también de un accidente fatal donde había una gran posibilidad de que yo sobreviva (cosa aue iba a ser peor). Así que empecé a divagar por las calles esperando a que algun loco me intentara robar y termine matándome.
          
          Caminé durante un tiempo hasta toparme con la madre de una vieja amiga, como ella me conoce me dejó pasar. Yo le conté todo lo que me sucedió y ella me ayudó.
          Hicimos la denuncia por maltrado intrafamiliar.
          Aún tenía heridas ocasionadas por mi madre por lo que eso fue suficiente como para que me creyeran.
          
          Por ahora estoy viviendo con mi amiga.
          He subido de peso y recuperado un poco de color ya que padecía de anemia, también recuperé mis estudios! Así que trataré de hacer mi mayor esfuerzo para recuperar todo este tiempo perdido y sobresalir tanto como quería en un principio.
          
          Espero que lean esto y comprendan mi situación.
          Por favor, si padecen de una misma situación que la mía o peor busquen ayuda. Aunque más no sea escapando, no hay necesidad de sufrir por cosas que no son verdad.
          
          Att; Ash Convoy

Cuando el se fue nosotras nos quedamos sin dinero, así que mi madre comenzó a echarme la culpa de que fueramos pobres. Según ella yo era una puta por querer levantarme a su novio porque era fea, que nadie me quería y que por eso sólo me quedaba andar con tipos mayores y ajenos. ¿Pero como iba a pensar en eso a los 11 años? Ni siquiera me importaba, y actualmente tampoco me importa, tener pareja porque eso implicaba perder mi tiempo como artista, además el simple hecho de pensar en ese tipo de "relaciones" me daba asco desde hace mucho tiempo, nunca en mi vida se me hubiera cruzado por la cabeza hacer eso y mucho menos a mi madre. Sería lo más enfermo que una persona podría hacer... Pero bueno. Mi madre piensa que yo "lo intenté".
          Ella incluso me había amenazado de muerte en reiteradas ocasiones y me había golpeado múltiples veces por cosas absurdas como borrar photoshop (esa vez me golpeó las piernas con el palo de la escoba, y ni siquiera era de madera, sino de metal.) o hacer la comida salada.
          Perdí muchas amistades y, básicamente, todo contacto con la sociedad.
          Tampoco estaba comiendo, y si comía era una vez al día.

Mi madre tomó riendas en el asunto y en vez de echarlo terminó por encerrarme en la habitación de mi difunto abuelo, lugar cuyo espacio era jodidamente pequeño y estaba en mal estado. No habían ventanas y las paredes se caían a pedazos. Apenas entraba la cama y un par de muebles para meter poca ropa.
          Ella me obligó a estar ahí encerrada por cinco años y medio hasta que el pedófilo que convivía con nosotras se fue. Mientras tanto tuve que soportar insultos, golpes y regaños sin sentido por simplemente toparme con el por accidente mientras iba de camino al baño. John por supuesto se la pasaba como pancho por su casa, iba al baño cuando quería, salía del cuarto, iba a la cocina... En cambio yo ni siquiera podía salir al baño si el estaba. Muchas veces tuve que hacer mis necesidades en un termo que utilizaba para la escuela y tirar todo cuándo ellos se iban a dormir.
          Ya no iba al colegio tampoco, perdí tres años de estudio. Me quedé atascada en segundo año de secundaria.
          Tampoco podía socializar con nadie por internet o siquiera tener redes sociales como cualquier chico de mi edad, mi madre pensaba que yo estaba detrás de su novio y que haría "cualquier cosa" por contactar con él cuándo en realidad estaba haciendo todo lo posible por evitar toparme con el o siquiera oirlo.