Never

My life actually started at the age of nine when my mother bought her very own cafe. I got to get out of my abusive household more, slowly but surely.
I got friends, one wasn’t real but I’m glad I had her while I did. With the cafe I got to meet so many amazing people, I got attached to all of those people. Those people are the staff of my mom’s cafe. But they are more of family then friends, chosen family as we call them. Out with the bad and in with the new.
I barely remember before the cafe, but that doesn’t matter right now.

I never knew about self harm and suicide locked up in my old house. I probably wouldn’t have killed myself if knew about the option though, my mom always promised me that we would make it out, she was right.
I probably wouldn’t have self harmed even if I knew about it back then either. But I don’t remember so I can’t speak for my old self.
Now, at the age of 15, I have two scars on my wrist. One from my cat and the other one from… let’s say from the world.

My past self wouldn’t ever see this me coming. Or maybe she did but she’s surpised that she finally decided to do all the things she said that she wouldn’t. I probably saw it coming, not how I became but that I’d get stronger. In some ways though, all this strength is making me weak.
I bet I’ll change a million times in my life time, if “the world” doesn’t make me change that.
Nah I’m just playin’, I’ll survive and be back next life. I wonder how I’ll be in the next life, since my mother and I finally broke the chain and left my father. If there actually is a next life. But either way, I’ll see you again one day.