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Shrivelled up inside Feeling worthless You ever think a six-year-old should feel like that Just because they couldn't add 2 plus 4 in math? Over the years your words pummel my tiny mind Invisible claws digging deep Leaving gaping wounds of insecurity Your face says it all That crease in your forehead foretells of the coming ‘licks' My eyes dart in panic to the dining room chair Where your favourite leather strap hangs carelessly Just waiting to attack mercilessly and make my skin black Why can't you see that I'm giving it my all? The unending comparisons with my sister's aptitude Makes me want to hold my head and bawl Her perfect scores drive me up the wall Oh the wall, where I distractedly watch a lizard crawl ‘Whap!' My scream, a sob, a bawl Let that leather strap sing Cause that's the thing My copybook page dotted with the watery evidence of my failure My leaky eyes and snotty nose run like a free flowing river Why don't you know I'm trying my best? Oh the stress! Is you, is me, is the leather strap under duress Grannie in the corner watching with eyes gleaming Liking the way that the strap falling Mummy working..oh I miss she No one knows my pain Except God, but then again.. He doh answer No matter dey say He hear My cries, my six-year-old pain Have me thinking to run away On days like this where bliss is a definite miss They say is for my own good But my lost voice breaks my heart Somedays I plot my master escape in my head To sneak from my bed and just fled Lying in the dark, no meal because I didn't answer correctly Math ain't my forte Don't they see I just want to play? The neighbourhood kids screaming for fun and games Me always at my desk Studies more important..the adults say But wait eh Someday when I am grown I will have my say Because no one better lay a finger on my chile This mummy will be a tiger Who wants things better And the power I hold Will definitely be told And the mountains my kid will climb Would be so better than mine For it all starts and stops with me No generational curses and lame-o excuses But the truth that to be better, You must conquer that pain Unlocking and understanding are the key My mummy and daddy didn't know better But these books I reading and these TV programs I seeing Got my brain cells electrifying Change is in me I hold the power! Its up to me..let ME determine my FUTURE!

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Victory and defeat hold different meanings for different people and being happy with this victory or defeat is also strange. From Latehar, we left for Ranchi (both in Jharkhand, India), on a light vehicle and from there we had to leave for Siwan (Bihar, also in India) on a night bus. Everything was well planned and we were supposed to reach our destination by the next morning. We started our journey on a very positive note. After covering almost 100 km, I felt uneasy because the bus was making loud creaky sounds and the ride became more bumpy than usual. About a few minutes later, around midnight… We were out of the city and in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Then all of a sudden… Our bus collided with a truck coming from the opposite direction. The driver slammed on the breaks and sharply turned the wheel to the other direction. The bus tumbled off and started rolling down the road. The entire episode happened in the blink of an eye. We met with an unexpected accident. Everyone on the bus was screaming and shouting. There was a great rush near the door. It was a surreal and haunting experience and we were lucky enough that none of us got hurt. I kept getting flashbacks in slow motion of the time when the bus driver slammed on the breaks until it laid tilted and damaged on the road. All the people lost their tempers. We immediately got off the bus. We waited patiently outside while the others got off. Then I saw my father entering the bus again. We thought that he was going inside to bring out the luggage. But then we saw that he along with the bus conductor was busy rescuing the bus driver who was stuck in his seat. I saw several people injured with blood stains due to the glass pieces from the windows but the driver was the worst affected. He was unable to stand. Perhaps he had multiple fractures. My father along with the conductor managed to send the driver to the hospital by another vehicle. Everyone was surrounding the bus watching anxiously as the entire scene unfolded. The bus looked like something out of a horror movie as it was laid on its one side, totally destroyed and disfigured and the dark night sky intensified the entire happening. And since the bus was badly damaged, it could not proceed further. Then just like everyone else, my father went to the conductor to take back our bus fare since we had a long journey pending and we had not even covered half of the route. But till then the conductor had ran away and left the spot. However, there were a few passengers who had already grabbed their money from the conductor. I am still not sure if the driver made it out alive since he was badly injured. But I have a feeling that he did make it because he was immediately sent to a nearby hospital. I still wonder the causes of that accident. Maybe the driver fell asleep at the wheel? Maybe he just lost control of the steering wheel? Maybe he got distracted from the road? Or maybe he was simply drunk? I am still clueless. I often think that if the bus driver did not slam on the breaks at the last second, or if we were heading a bit faster, then I am sure everyone on the bus would have died and nobody from the outside world would have known about it. We fled the scene because we got picked up by another bus that was heading to Patna luckily. In that bus we had one more passenger from the previous bus who was along with his mother. He was boasting about how he took advantage of the situation and snatched away the money from the conductor. He thought it to be a great achievement. That boy was very happy. Because he was in no loss from that journey, in fact he was in profit because he actually took a greater amount of money than his original fare. So it was obvious for him to be in joy. On the other hand, our entire money was lost since the conductor ran away with it. But my father was still happy. On being asked the reason, he replied that the driver too would be having a family and the happiness they would feel, when they come to know that he has nearly survived a fatal accident, is a lot more valuable than this boy's happiness. These words of my father made me think a lot. Have you ever noticed that some people appear to be happy, while others seem to exist under a black cloud always? This is because happiness is not something that happens to us, or something we are born with. Happiness is a choice we all can make. This can be applied to all the circumstances in life where we can filter out happiness from it. At the end, everyone was happy- My father being happy for saving a life and the boy being happy for making a great amount of money. The driver's family too would have been definitely happy to see him alive. Now that is the ‘Real Happiness'.

Aside from introducing myself, I'm really unsure of where to begin. This probably isn't the beginning of my story but it's definitely a start. Have you ever heard someone say, "I had to grow up too quickly" or "I didn't have a childhood"? Those simple statements are the literal definition of my life. At 9 years old, I didn't know how to be a child. I never played with friends, went to sleepovers, or had birthday parties. I was too busy taking care of my two younger siblings. Making bottles, getting them dressed, changing diapers, cooking meals, giving baths... the whole nine yards. I was raising children that I didn't create. I was raising children as a CHILD. My "parents"? They were drunk. They were high. They were fighting. They were passed out. They were somewhere else. One of my earliest memories includes packing lunches for my sister and I before school. We lived in a little trailer in Powell, Wyoming and we walked to school every day. Rain, shine, snow, sleet. We walked. One morning on our way out the door my sister asked for popsicles. Being a child myself, I grabbed us some popsicles and tossed a knife inside her backpack so we could open them on the way to school. Here we are two young children probably 6 & 9 walking to school, eating popsicles and minding our own business. That is until we finally arrived at school and my younger sister's teacher decides to go through her backpack in search of something - but what she finds instead is the knife. Landing my kindergarten sister in the principal's office. Before long the school officer is involved, my parents are called and all of us are sitting in the office. I can remember the tears rolling down her face as the school officer explains how serious this is. Little does he know, I'm the one who put it in there this morning. As he scolds my sister, I can feel the rage welling up inside myself. Because I know it was my fault. The only other thing I remember about that day is getting whopped later that evening after school. It was "MY responsibility" to get us both to school. It was "MY responsibility to make sure she was safe. It was "MY responsibility".... But I was 9. I was supposed to be the child, not the adult. It should have NEVER been my responsibility to set an alarm. It should have NEVER been my responsibility to wake up my younger sister and get us both ready for school. It should have NEVER been my responsibility to begin with. However, looking back now I realize I'd gladly take that beating all over again because it meant that my sister wouldn't have to. I was forced to grow up early. I never got a childhood. I was "mom" to my siblings. I was the adult in my home. Even though I was only 9 years old...even though I was a child.

COVD-19 came a shock for so many people, myself included. After the 2007 H1N1 outbreak, I assumed there would be another world-wide disease that would affect those with chronic upper respiratory health issues. As an asthmatic and someone who has had pneumonia more than ten times, this was something I could not risk. Being prepared was necessary. The last thing I needed was to be hospitalized for such an illness, especially since I have been hospitalized for asthma and pneumonia many times. Stocking up one medication became routine for me. I stopped waiting until I needed asthma medication to get refills. Nebulizer's break, nebulizer equipment breaks, I now have three; including one that has its own battery pack, in case I can't be near an outlet. Being overprepared became a hobby of mine. Nearly a decade and a half later, I finally wasn't the odd one with a huge stack of medication. March 2020, COVID-19 was officially declared a pandemic. Like many, I was laid off and found myself at home. Luckily, my husband still had his job and his health insurance. We were secure financially and had that safety net. Laid off just sounded negative, so I labeled myself a “stay-at-home cat mom,” to which my husband wasn't thrilled about. I really enjoy being home, I find it relaxing and it turns out, something I can do with ease for longer than I ever realized. My husband, Chris, recharges and relaxes being around friends. I relax and recharge at home, alone with the cats, without my husband. I was getting something out of life I never thought I would get until retirement. While my husband was going mad stuck at the house, especially when all of his hobbies involved interacting with other people. Chris was constantly bugging me, wanting to figure out what to do besides playing board games. He wanted to be with his friends, even though he was still working and getting out. While my husband was feeling the negatives, I felt amazing. Prior to COVID, I was working insane hours, I had my volunteering, family I was responsible for in other states, and what felt like a million other things. To me, getting laid off was a blessing. I was free to recharge, I was free to be me without responsibilities getting in the way. First thing I did, I bought $500 worth of bulk yarn. When that box came, I was happier to see that than when I fully paid off my car. My grin was ear to ear. I officially set up a craft and cat room. I moved my big comfortable chair, I moved the cat tower, I reorganized the closet and empty guest room became mine. All mine, and the cats of course. Before I knew it, I was staying up until 3 or 4 am crocheting. Item after item, presents for babies that my cousins weren't even pregnant with. Presents for friends and family member's next 5 birthdays and Christmas presents. My craft closet was and still is overflowing. I couldn't be happier. The cats couldn't be happier spending the time with me and laying on all of my new projects. I needed a challenge. Staying all night crafting wasn't enough for me, I needed more. Expansion, more complicated patterns, clothing, anything to get out of my comfort zone. Once I started breaking out of my comfort zone, I spent several months making only clothes. After a few weeks, I started writing my own patterns because I couldn't find a pattern for something that matched what was in my head. Every day needed to be a new challenge. Longing for more creativity and creating things I never thought I could; it was actually happening. Without the distraction of work, family, friends, volunteering and general life, I surpassed anything I ever thought I could make. My grandmother even said I surpassed her skills, which was such an honor to hear and accomplish. Sadly, my grandmother got sick and I needed to take care of her. Luckily, I was out of work and able to do so. As she got transferred to hospice, I knew the end wasn't far. I crocheted a dress for her funeral, all while sitting in hospice with her. Creating a dress, past her crocheting abilities, and wearing it to her funeral is something I felt honored her and the skills she taught me. Being forced to be home for so long during COVID-19 allowed me to challenge myself and allowed my creativity to shine. The more I crafted, the more I wanted and couldn't stop. Many people focus on the negative aspects of COVID-19, I have done my best to focus on the positive. I decided that I want this to be my life, I want my creativity to shine every single day. COVID-19 inspired me to open my own crafting business. While things are just getting started, it will be a slow process and take a lot of work, I know I can do it. The challenges I faced during COVID-19 ended up being one of the most positive things in my life because it motivated me to do something I truly love and make money off of my passion. I am now a business owner, selling things I make and enjoy making. Thank you COVID-19 for challenging me to change my life.

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Covid was a wild ride. I have been struggling with depression as long as I can remember. It was not until covid hit, that it finally came up to my parents. There were long, rough nights, and times I didn't even think I would make it. I ended up self-harming so bad from all the stress, I was put in the mental hospital. Besides the depression I had to deal with trauma that had happened to me that year, and if that wasn't enough stress, I was also dealing with a drug problem. It was rough. I was self-medicating to try to push down the underlying problems. The mental hospital didn't exactly help either. I was unstable and couldn't see a point of living. In my mind I have nothing to look forward for. The country was having social unrest, the economy was collapsing, nobody seemed to be able to agree on anything and the political war was out of hand. I felt like the media was shoving all the problems down my throat and I just couldn't breathe. That was the one good thing I got from the mental hospital, a fucking break. I couldn't handle it. What do you do when your life already feels like it's going to collapse and now, you're in a middle of a pandemic. The cancel culture was getting out of hand and social media was becoming a huge problem. No one could tell fake news from real news and everyone was scared if they said the wrong thing they would be shamed. The pressure was unbearable. This led up to my suicide attempt that landed me once again in a mental hospital. It was awful feeling being trapped in the same four walls, constantly being watched by the staff. It was a nightmare. I couldn't decide which one was worse, being locked up and forced into therapy 24/7 or being out in the real world full of problems. I was lost and there seemed to be no answers. Again, and again I continued to relapse, unable to pull myself out of the bad habits. Soon there was not an inch of my body not covered in scars, but the physical scars didn't even matter anymore. The emotional scars left behind wouldn't heal like the physical ones would. I went through many therapists trying to find someone who could help me. No matter what I did it seemed like my trauma seemed to always resurface. As a woman it was extremely hard for me to come to terms with what happened. I felt so violated but the stigma around my abuse was a thick cloud no one wanted to break. It seems it was never the guy's fault but always the girls. We must have led them on, worn something wrong or said the wrong thing. Now in lockdown I had plenty of time to sit and think about everything causing my life to spiral out of control. There were no distractions to keep my mind at bay. Everything was shut down. Nothing to look forward to, to keep my spirits up. Prom was canceled, and graduation ceremonies don't seem like an option. As a young person it is very hard to get the attention we may want, and if we do it is a negative light. We cannot tell out stories because they are not valid until we have “lived life” and “truly experienced the world” I am tired of people telling me I'm lucky that I am young. What good is youth when we cannot enjoy it. The same people that tell me I am in my prime age are the same ones who played in the streets and went wherever without worry. I was not allowed in the streets; I was not allowed to adventure and be a kid because when I grew up there were to many criminals on the loose. We could not walk down the street without an adult in fear of being kidnapped. We were deprived of a lot of freedom because of what the world had become. So naturally when I became a teenager life did seem like the prime. Maybe we do have lots of mental health issues and other problems that are not being addressed as much as they should, but at least we got the taste of freedom. Long nights with friends, school dances and activities, being dumb teenagers. Maybe we didn't fully get to experience being a kid but we sure as hell weren't going to let our teenage years go to waste even if it may not be as glamorous as it seemed. Now even out teenage years are being ripped away from us. No more high school, hanging out, long nights, school dances, and being dumb teenagers. We were told to stay inside and be safe, to wear our masks and hide from society. I am tired of living in a world that doesn't seem to want me here. How much longer can I stand being beaten to the ground before I won't get up again. Every day I question the benefit continuing life. How can I “just get over it”? I've been through so much and all I get in return is a little gold sticker and the promise it will get better soon. Covid has been a blessing and a curse. It lifted me up and bit me in the ass. Without it I may have never gotten the help I needed with my depression; I may have never told anyone the horrible things done to me that creep into my nightmares. But with it comes the impending doom that everything was for nothing. My life is a mess and that's just how it will always be.

4 YEARS OF HORROR LIVING A TOXIC LIFE It was still a mystery how something good turned so sour in just a few years. It felt almost like a switch was flipped off and his humanity was automatically turned off, turning him into a monster of the worst kind. How had I endured all of this for so long?? I felt drained and exhausted from constantly checking my actions to avoid any flaws or mistakes that would unleash the demon in him. Being mentally frustrated was not enough to explain how dehumanized I felt; I was practically scared of my own skin and was always wired to bolt from the slightest scare. How could a man drag a woman's pride in the mud, destroy her self esteem, brutalise her personality and still expected her to love him completely ?? What a toxic world I lived in. My name is Neni and I was trapped for four years of my student life. 2015 *** Stepping into my biology class for the first time felt good because it meant I was grown up enough to handle my life and take care of myself. I have been set free from the shackles of my parents and I had the world at my feet and the heavens just above my head. In my euphoric state I was ecstatic and crazy enough to think if I just reached out my hand I could touch the heavens above and make my wishes come true. More like my worst fears came to life. Meeting Simon was not as dramatic as first love's seem to emphasize. He was my lab partner during computer class and we sort of bonded over trivial discussion while I admired how beautifully created he was. He was very funny, goofy, knew how to charm a woman and make her swoon,very persuasive in a romantic way and was as considerate as any first year student could be. We made time to see each other outside of classes which proved difficult because of our different time tables, class schedules, hostel rules and everything beyond but we tried as much as we could to hang out during games in the evenings. He asked me to be his girlfriend on matriculation day and I gleefully accepted with all my immature heart fluttering and goosebumps lining up my arms which sent chills down my spine, making me feel I had found my missing rib. Four year down the line and it still remained the worst decision of my entire adult life. 2016 *** "Simon, have you seen my ATM card"?, I can't find it anywhere. I lamented bitterly because I needed to use the money my parents sent to me to pay off my school debts. "Yes babe" I have it with me and I need to use some of the money to clear up some stuff I got tangled in, he replied casually. What!! Exactly what are you talking about?? How can you even say such a thing. Please hand over my card I said with my hands outstretched. The vibration from the slap I received gave me nosebleeds and I literally fell to the floor. "Don't you ever question my decisions in this relationship ever again" he yelled and stomped out. I sat down on the cold tiled floor in my shorts and bloodstained white tank top feeling like a hammered drunk, dazed and too useless to move. Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the beginning of many more scary abuses to come. I was currently leaving with simon because we couldn't bear to be apart from each other even for a minute and he didn't want the restrictions the hostel presented so I partially moved in with him in my second year. I remember how loving and caring he was during our first year together, how he lavished me with tenderness and love. He holistically adored the ground on which I walked and worshipped at my feet. He loved my body like it was his, he adored every part of me, reverenced my core, bowed before my gates, asked permission before taking charge and took me on a ride of ecstasy and over the edge with a mastery that only he could perfect. We understood each other perfectly well, we didn't envy others and were content with everything we had until he wasn't. Simon became more cranky, lost interest in school, pilfered some money here and there, made excuses for his absences and spent all his time in the gambling den. The days he didn't win were the worst of them all. Full Story Here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/o04shq93hkaftha/4%20YEARS%20OF%20HORROR%20LIVING%20A%20TOXIC%20LIFE.docx?dl=0

All I wanted to do is to publish this book. But I had other books plans before that one. After many years of preparations, testing, trial and error, waiting and burning excitement, Cruel Summer launch day is here, and the eBook is available at Amazon marketplaces! Cruel Summer is a gripping, unexpected, strong, and emotional YA cross-genre story about an abused teenage boy and a poet in New Manhattan, Michael Daniels, who only wants to skate and enter skateboarding contests, and the loyalty of friendship that stands as the shield between those with power and his freedom. Michael's skateboarding friends, Alien and Victor, are his only hope when things go wrong and mysteries and secrets start to unfold, threatening to turn their society into an authoritarian dystopia. Because when there is no hope left, friendship is what remains. All he wants to do is skate. By they have other plans for him. Cruel Summer has elements of family and social issues, extreme sports, conspiracy, murder, mystery, teen romance as a subplot, and even sci-fi and dystopia as a touch of alternative history. It carries a strong message of friendship. Although the main protagonists are three friends, skateboarders from New York City at the end of the millennium, Cruel Summer is not just a novel about extreme sports. It is a deep story of a family and sexual abuse, and the exploitation of power by those who have the means to use it over the individuals and the population in general. Having a strong human rights and environmental message, it will also appeal to those who love reading these books. Originally published as Okrutno ljeto in Croatian in 2014, Cruel Summer is still a hot topic today. Please click on the links below to get your copy where you can also leave your honest review. Thank you for that! Amazon.com Amazon Australia Amazon Canada Amazon UK Goodreads BookBub Cruel Summer is enrolled in KDP Select, where you can read it for free. Through most of March, it will be at the discounted price of $0.99 before it goes up to its regular place. A perfect time to download your eBook! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08X6JZKRM Thank you all who helped me bring this book to life. There are too many of you to mention you here, but you have my eternal thanks in the Acknowledgements in the book. If you are a representative of the media, please click here for the press release. https://www.bernardjan.com/cruel-summer-press Cruel Summer and I are available for reviews, book tours, interviews. Cover design by Dean Cole. BJ Follow me on Twitter. Source: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/cruel-summer-ebook-launch-day-on-amazon

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