I have some to a point where, there is no point to killing my self. I would simply live again, in another life or in the afterlife. Lie is Death and death is life. It is a never-ending circle as are all things, in a never-ending circle.  I know I have a purpose, I just have no idea what it is and it doesn't feel like I have one, so I have deduced that, my purpose is to find my purpose. I, as everyone else have been put here for some reason or another. But, this still doesn't change the fact that I just want to hide away in bed for days on end sometimes. Or just stay out, and be with people, that accept me for who I am. I really dislike being at home now. I feel constantly censored. I feel so different in my house. And I don't have that feeling that strongly anywhere else, even in front of perfect strangers. I am at the point where I don't want any contact with my parents. They are very hypocritical, and over protective. I know they care, it just doesn't feel like it. And they seem to have odd whey of showing it. I get it the worst though, I pay for my Sisters mistakes with guys, and any other mistake for that matter, I am the only Girl in the house with a life out side the house. My curfew is 7:30 where as my step brother who is only 6 months older than me, in the same grade, is very ignorant, and is much more immature than me, can come home at like 9:30, which, while it is still early, is much more decent than 7:30. They hate it when I am out with a bunch of guy friends, or only a guy or guys; they think I am going to be gang raped or something. While I know they guys I am with, and most of them are quite afraid of me, I know when to stop and walk away. I can handle myself quite nicely. I am not afraid of my small town after dark, or any town after dark, especially if I am with someone. If it is dark and I have to walk home, or across town, I donít do it alone. I usually have a guy friend walk me to my street, which has no traffic because it is a crescent. I know the people on my street and I know what I am doing. I am aware of my surroundings. But because I am a girl, my mother will not let me do anything. My own mother, who told me how women should be treated as equals to men. But then again my mother says she wants me to be a free sprit. And won't let me BE a free sprit. One time she said, after I had bought an outfit she didn't like asked if I liked it, I said I did and she told me well that's all thatís important. Then when she was talking to my step dad who came to her and said 'what the hell is she wearing' to my mom started to talk about how she always wanted he children to be free sprits and you just can't go against that, when you have told them that all their lives. But she goes against that every day of my life and hers. When I turn sixteen I will have free rein over my ears, and hair (so I can cut and dye my hair however I want, and pierce my ears a much as I want). I cannot pierce anything open my body until I am 18 and moved out, before that I will be kicked out basically. I can wear my make up whatever colours I want, and as much as I want, as long as it is in a traditional place (like I couldn't leave the house with spirals drawn beside my eyes with eyeliner coming from my upper lash line). I am not allowed to wear my pentacle everywhere all the time because it freaks out my grandparents, but that doesn't bother me so much I understand that whole heartedly. I have won with jewelry other than that. I can dye my hair any natural colour I want, as long as my mom dyes it for me, so she knows for sure, that it doesn't "accidentally" change colour or something like that, but I cannot dye it black. I am in the early stages of winning the war with my clothes, because I am gaining clothes at the fastest rate in the house (still the least amount of clothes though) but for the smallest amount of money, or with my own money if I ever get any. That comes from my intense love for thrift stores. I may only own barely a weeks worth of clothes but I am quickly adding to it, and my parents, as much as they hate it, are trying to just divert their eyes when it comes to clothes.