not as strong as I look

I remember when I made my brother cry, he was beating me and I told him that I hated him, that he wasn't my brother anymore. He went into our mom's room and when I went in ther after him I found him sitting there crying, I hugged him and told him I loved him, and to this day he has no recollection of that ever happening.
It's funny, what people remember, and what they choose to forget. My mother doesn't remember the time she and my brother laughed at me when I told them they were hurting my feelings, I think that was the last time I ever admitted being hurt to anyone. I never wanted to be laughed at again. I wonder sometimes what my life would have been like if I never stopped, if I cried when people hurt me, I wonder if they wouldn't be so cruel to me. But I suppose if they could laugh at me when I was eight it would only get worse. People say I'm tough, that I don't feel anything, I don't think anyone really believes that, they just use it as an excuse to justify being so cruel to me. I'll never tell them though, I'll never say I'm weak, I'll never say I'm hurt, and they'd never believe I was, I am such a good actor. I learned when I was a child how to cry on cue, I don't need to think very hard to find something to make me cry. Usually I think of my mother, or my real father, there are alot of painful memories to choose from.
I never wanted to be here, the ten days I spent in the psych ward at Queens were the happiest ten days of my life. I didn't want to come back, I asked to be put in a group home. I hate what I have become, fake and heartless, afraid to be myself. I have become everything I always hated. I want to move to a place where no one knows me, then I won't have to lie to anyone about who I am, I won't be afraid of what people will say or do to me. I can be an honest person. That's all I want.