I'm feeling sad. So remarkably, unbelievably sad.

I've been with this family for over 8 years now, ever since I was removed from my second family after being used as an ashtray by people. This followed my first family, where I was beaten and locked in a dark room for what seemed like days at a time for the smallest transgression.

But I have to leave them in a few days, and I really don't want to go. Life sucks, this sucks. I'm so unhappy right now it's all I can do not to cry.

We went to the park today. I've always loved the park. When I was first brought here I was too young to really appreciate it, but I know I always got excited when I heard the word 'park'.

I used to love playing with the ducks when I was little, but a few years ago the pond was filled in and flats were built where it used to be, all in the name of progress apparently.

Well in my opinion progress sucks. I really don't want to leave my family behind. I think I may be officially depressed.

When I first came here I found it so hard to trust these people. I was certain that the abuse I had grown so used to would start again at any moment and that no matter what I did I knew it would be wrong and I'd be punished.

But over time I came to realise that not every family has the same dynamic as the first two I was with. Some families actually use love and affection as their main basis as opposed to hatred and bullying.

It took me over a year to work this out, and during that time I lashed out at my family so many times I lost count, even though they never did anything wrong. At the time I felt I was defending myself, and maybe I was.

My main thought process at the time was "don't get too close and attached", because I knew that sooner or later these people would stop being nice to me and would start lashing out and blaming me for everything anyway, so surely it was better to just get the transition period out of the way.

But they always treated me with such a calm attitude, even when I was really badly behaved. I grew to learn that there are ways to punish bad behaviour without violence, and these are much more effective.

Before I even realised it, all I wanted more than anything else was to show my new family that I was worthy of the attention and love they were showing me.

Now I have to leave them, and that hurts. Sometimes I wonder if they can hear my stifled cries at night.

We went to the beach today, the whole family. I've always loved the beach, almost as much as the park, although not quite as much as we never came here enough for me to really get to know each nook and cranny of the place like I do the park.

But still, we came enough for me to get used to playing in the surf and then lounging on the sand and relaxing at the end of a fun filled day. I'm going to miss this place the most I think, even though it isn't the place I've visited the most in my time here.

Perhaps BECAUSE it isn't the place I've visited the most in fact, as I think I'm going to regret the times I could have come here and didn't much more than I could ever have imagined at the time.

As we drove away I couldn't help looking back with a tear in my eye.

I heard my mother and father, or at least what I consider my mother and father, talking about me today. They were talking about how they're going to cope when I'm gone and how long they think they should wait before taking someone else like me in.

My mother was crying, and my dad sounded pretty hoarse too. I don't know if I'm happy or sad that it seems like they're going to miss me so much when I'm gone.

Part of me is happy because it means that they clearly love me as much as I always thought they did, meaning that this whole thing wasn't an act. But the other part of me wishes they were like my other families right now, vile people who weren't even remotely upset when I left, as I really don't want to be the source of my families sadness.

Today is my last day here, and I've spent most of it in the garden, just lounging around and being generally depressed. I can see the family looking at me when they think my attention is distracted by something shiny elsewhere, and I've heard crying come from the house at least twice today.

It's all I can do to keep my own wits about me right now, as I'm just as broken up about leaving as they are. Maybe more so. After all, they still get to have their nice house in a great neighbourhood once I'm gone.

Me? I have no idea what comes next.

I'm feeling tired now so I go and lie down by the pool (YES! My family has their own pool, a scene of endless fun when I was younger). But now I'm tired, so I just lie there and go to sleep.

I don't even hear it when they start calling my name. I'm dead to the world by then.

"Is he dead?"


"Do you think we can bury him before the kids wake up? Maybe tell them he ran away in the night?"

"I'll put him in the car and take him out of town somewhere. That way the kids won't see the mound in the garden and work it out, although they're not idiots and they know he was sick."

"Poor dog..."