Alone

A young girl struggles to cope with her drunken fathers abuse and neglect after her mothers sudden death.

in the depths of some stormy nights, I like to sit on my window sill and watch the lightening streak the sky, close my eyes and feel the the wind streak across my arms and face. If I spread my arms, and really imagine, I can feel myself lifting into the dark sky, thunder rushing across my body and lightening missing me by inches. If only I had wings to escape this hell , I could fly above the pain of today and begin my new life, sailing away I could spread my wings and be free again, I would have a new innocence and a new understanding of this timid life, mum would still be here to wish me goodnight, dad would be gone and no more tears would trickle down my broken smile. Dad beats me till I go numb, the pain of each punch fades as my eyes drift away. “SHUT UP” He yells as I plead to the lord for some kind of peace. “ SHES GONE FOREVER” he screams as I call out for mother, He drinks till he crys, its how he copes. He resents me for what I did, I caused my mother to jump of that bridge. It was all my fault, The pain that I caused mother is beyond sight, she was scared for my future and whats route I was taking, the depression that I caused her became overwhelming, she went away that night, “im done” she yelled and she slammed the door tight, “but wait mum” I cried. She never came home, she never spoke again, she took her life, all because of me. Her death was hard, harder then anything, I even thought about joining her in heaven. But I realised, I can make mother proud by taking the right route and becoming what she dreamed. I wonder if mother looks down on dad, and tells him to stop beating her baby, I wonder if she sheds tears when he drinks and yells at me. Dad needs to stop, my body is black from the punches and slaps, my heart is numb from his careless words. Each day comes and goes, my body aches in pain, my hands shiver, wondering when dad will next beat me, I wonder a lot, is this my punishment for making mother jump? Maybe it is, but it isn’t very equal, I deserve to die, I deserve to be gone from this world and to take no more breaths, I must be evil for what I did, maybe mum resents me in heaven and wishes that that’s where I should live, when dad beats me, maybe she laughs. She might even be cheering him on, as he drinks another glass. As I think about it more, I don’t deserve this life, I deserve to go to hell and not to see one more sight. I am broken inside, Why should I bother trying anymore? I’m not even afraid of dying. I’m not afraid of pain. I just want to leave this world. Please pray for me. I’m tired of trying.

Author's Note

PLease ignore the grammer, and spelling, was a very quick project that i havent yet overlooked properly

Reviews

[KeeD]

The premise is poignant and draws the reader in immediately. Abusive house holds are very relatable but your story was not a reciting of a problem, it was an escape through the victims shoes for every person who's been in a similar situation. Each line hits the reader like a bullet constantly reminding them of the pain, the torment and the abuse. I see the girls perseverance and I see her weakness, I feel for her and wish I could do something to help. That exact feeling of me a reader and you the author giving me the ability to feel for a character is great writing. Kudos, amazing job.