Events from the past escalated into what you will read here, a true or false story of a girl. You decide if I tell myth or reality.
Since the day my father and I got into a fight, we've been slowly falling apart and fighting more. He snapped at me and we butted heads, unwilling to give any ground... I saw him try to hit my mother and I screamed at him to stop. It hurt to watch my family be torn apart like this. But now that it's over, I am still shaking and can still hear his screams and jeers echoing in my head. As I lay here, I feel worthless and the feeling magnifies as he pretends nothing happened. Alone in my room, the tears slide down my face, dripping onto my shivering knees. My fears are around me and inside me. When he jeers at us and blames my mom for taking sides, I feel so used and unworthy. His affections aren’t there anymore and I wish life could return to where it'd been... I am afraid of what he'll do to my mother and little brother when I'm away...
I cry silently, face buried, trying to hide the fear, the anger, the hatred boiling out of my body towards a man I've lived with all my life. He scares me beyond all reason, a primal fear driving me to hide from him. I live in the illusion and put out the notion that my family is just fine. My father has raised his hand on me too many times to count and I let it go. He won't, WILL NOT EVER, harm my little brother the way he has done me....
He's never hit us before, not like this... I curse him, my only father and provider. A man I should never have met, nor been forced to live around. He forced me into who I am; a beater, abuser of those I love. A sharp word, a sting of flesh on flesh and I know how he feels about me. I am his unwanted daughter, his only daughter and he has made it clear I'm not wanted here. I should leave tonight but I refuse to let him win against my will. My brother and mother mean more than his imposing figure and stinging slaps do.
As I lay on my cold bed, thinking about what he's said, I can see now why he's been so frigid. His fears are showing and he needs to be strong. His hands around my neck made me struggle for air but this is a past experience and I will not hold it against him, my blood. The love I had for him in my naivety has long since dried up; replaced by a burning hunger to destroy the being that stole my role model and made him into the monster I hide in fear of. His eyes are no longer human, nor are the sharp words he spits at us. I come home from school and hole up in my sanctuary, afraid he will strike me again...
Even though by outside appearances he is still my father, inside he is nothing more than another demon taking over my life, twisting it inside out so that I fall into turmoil and break. My spirit hurts, bleeding all alone in the creeping darkness, unable to hold the hand of the one I once adored. His harsh tones hurt my ears and his cold looks drive icy hot blades in my skin, ripping my heart into a thousand pieces. I want us to go back to being happy...
He split my brother's image of him as an angel into fragments, tearing apart the innocence I fought so fiercely to protect. My little brother is now turning into my father; he idolizes that man. And he can't see how it hurts to watch him, hunting for someone to hurt, to tear apart... His aura is black with sins and hatred, staining those around him. I fear the day he is turned loose to terrorize someone else. I only hope that when it comes time for him to settle in, my brother remembers who our father was and decides to be better than that...
One could only hope and fight to preserve the innocent, after all....
I try, and he pushes me away. As do my mother and everyone else I fall to, struggling to find someone to help me. The ones I lean on are too weak to rely on so I must don the mantle of peace-keeper and hide how I feel: the strongest one of my broken home.
For now my tears have stopped, replaced by a numb emptiness I fear departing of. A new scar, this time on my hand, marks the twenty-third attempt at reaching someone. My desk is covered with the silent cries for help, only answered by the flicker of a flame and the few drops of blood I share with no one. The crimson reminder of what I endure.
The drops fall in darkness only I can see. Held back from dealing the final blow, the fear and hatred in me continues to grow, blossoming and ripping at the cage it remains in. My cold words are little different than his, but mine are meant to isolate myself. So that when the final straw breaks my back, I can leave this place with peace, knowing I did all I could to fix what damage I done to them, those that stood beside me without falter, with strength enough for three. I will miss those I loved, then and now. I am going to be free of the monster who's ruled my life soon and when I leave, I'll expect not to be missed. After all, I was only a fifteen year old child who had no idea what she was getting into when she stood in front of her weeping brother, taking the blow that would have killed him...
Topic: I Can't Think, His Words Still Echo Decide for Yourself (T/F?) (Read 3276 times)