Subject line: 23 times I wished I was dead.


ashland, kentucky. 

When I was very young a man broke into our house looking for money. I just so happened to be the only one to wake up and when he found me he made an attempt on my life. 23 times he stabbed me, and 23 times I wished I was dead. I was 10 years old and a grown man left me for dead bleeding out with a punctured lung and broken collarbone. He ran of course, but was caught. I was so sad for a long time, and then it turned to anger. Everyone kept saying how strong and brave I was. That it was a miracle I was alive. What they don’t know is in the 11 years since it happened, I play the scene over and over in my head again watching the single most significant thing to ever happen in my life, and it wasn’t even my doing. I will never be known for anything else, and I am angry that the man who attempted to murder me was responsible for people knowing my name. I feel like anything big that happens now will start with, “Do you remember that girl that got stabbed..?”