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 Posted: Fri Nov 05, 2010 8:15 pm
My body aches as I’m roused up by Mike’s foot in the morning.
When I look up, I find Mike’s lips curled into a frightening grin. He smells like beer and cigarettes. This used to give me goose-bumps when all of this started, when I was six, but in the last ten years, I have gotten used to it. It’s just part of my every day routine.
“What’s the matter, Andy? Didn’t get your beauty sleep?” he starts laughing. I don’t get what was so funny. “Well, I’m sorry if you didn’t.” Uh-huh. Apology not accepted. “Now get up and make breakfast for good old dad,” he let’s out a guffaw that for some reason, still makes me wince a little. But, hey, at least he got the ‘old’ part right, I rather call him that than dad, just doesn’t feel right, doesn’t fit. Like when I used to play with jigsaw puzzles, the ones with the Barbie pictures, and a piece wouldn’t fit in certain places. It‘s just like that.
As far as I can tell it’s October 7th. Every year on this damned day, he wakes me up in a more ‘pleasant’ way. Well, at least that’s what he calls it, and honestly, he can call it anyway he wants; it won’t make any different to me. He doesn‘t pull my hair, just kicks me instead. Though he only pulls me by my hair on nights that he’s spend drinking with his ‘buddies’, which then again is almost every night. He also doesn’t cusses as much, but like I give a s**t. And lets not forget that I also get some scrap of what‘s left from his plate as extras. But ‘why?’ you my ask. Because it’s my birthday! Joy!
Yeah right, why do I even bother at trying to look at the positive side of all of this? Psh, I know, ‘cause I still have to survive living two more years with him until I’m eighteen and can leave. Now leave does feel right! This piece does fit in the puzzle.
Actually, if I really think about it, it isn’t that bad.
I look around the room.
Ok, it is that bad. But it could be worse, right? Instead of being a bit ‘nicer’ to me on my birthday, he could actually treat me a lot worse, right?
Damn! I’m doing it again! I’m looking at the ‘bright’ side of all of this! I really have to stop doing that.
I stand up, trying to seem both unbothered and amused.
“Yeah, ‘good old dad’, but my name’s Annie, remember? What mom decided to name me sixteen years ago?” Mikes looks as if I’ve just hit him hard across his unshaven face, causing me to feel smug and I struggle against the urge to grin.
He grabs me by my old, tattered T-shirt and brings me so close to his face that I can smell the alcohol in his breath as he growls, “Don’t you ever again refer to her in this house! Could’ve at least taken you with her. But apparently she didn’t love you as much as she used to say since she ditched the both of us, leaving me to deal with you.” Ouch. That really would’ve hurt if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been telling me this almost every single day. Yet, it still somehow darkens my mood a bit.
He mutters something under his breath, too low for me to hear, before releasing me.
I’m taken by surprise as he grasps me again, but I’m not scared. Nope. Not like when I was too young to understand why my ‘daddy’ was dragging me across the house and insulting ‘mommy’.
“You do realize that if you hit me right now and knock me out unconscious, you’re gonna have to wait even longer for breakfast, right?” I looked at him as I said this, I was not about to let him see me weak.
Grunting, he lets go of me, and pushes me in the direction of our kitchen. I curse under my breath once he’s out of sight.
The kitchen’s small, but it’s something, I guess. Like in every other house, it has a stove, oven, a little cabinet where all of the spices and condiments are stored, and an old refrigerator. Across from that is the sink and on top of that are more cabinets that are filled with pots, pans, plates, bowls, etc.
It takes no more than an hour for me to cook eggs, whip up a few pancakes, call Mike for breakfast, ear and wash the dishes.
I start to wonder what my life would have been like if mom had never abandoned me, if things would have been different Mike wouldn’t have taken his anger out on me. A lot of things would’ve been different.
For starters: I wouldn’t be covered in bruises and scars.
Two: I would actually have friends who wouldn’t be so afraid of Mike that our conversation would go beyond a simple “Hey”.
And three: I would actually be living a normal, teenage life.
Yep. Diffidently a different life. My family could have done something about it. I once called my aunt Clare when I was eight. She said she would come over and fix things, but at that instant Mike walked into the room and snatched the phone away from my small hands, went off on her, and hung up on her.
For days I kept thinking that in any moment she would burst through the door, saving me from this man I once thought a loving father. But that moment never came, and I was left to deal with Mike. After that call I never did hear anything else about any other family member, and the dream of being taken far away from this place eventually faded away.
Over the years my heart started going from tender and fragile to hard and cold. For a long time I question my family’s reaction to all of this. After all, it doesn’t take long for the word to reach the ear of every single family member, whether it’s good news, bad news, or just gossip. So I’ve asked myself, “Why hadn’t they come?” “They could’ve spared me all of this,” and so on.
But it’s too late for anything to be done now. No point in thinking about the ‘what ifs’ and of the ‘maybes’.
I walk over to the mirror hanging on the other side of the kitchen. Honestly, I have no idea how it ended up there, but that doesn’t really matter. What does is what I find looking back at me.
The girl looking back at me has brown, almost black, tangled shoulder length hair. Big, brown, sad eyes. A porcelain like face marked with three purple bruises, one close to the left eye, another one on her nose, and the last one on the right side of her mouth. This girl doesn’t trust anyone, she rather be alone, why she smokes almost anything, just so she can forget the cruel reality.
I’m still staring at the girl’s reflection when a shine catches my attention. I spin around to find a kitchen knife sitting on top of the old wooden table. I grab it and point the edge of the knife toward the inside of my left wrist, where blue looking veins criss cross. I start lowering the knife.
No, I can’t do it! With effort, I move away my hand and let go of the knife. It hit’s the floor with a loud bang. No, no, no! Why on Earth can’t I get it over with?! I take a deep breath.
Ok, it’s still morning. The day’s just begun, another day full of misery, which I don’t have to go through but do because I’m not strong enough to end all of this, but maybe it’ll be different today. Maybe.
*i finished this one about a month ago, but im not really sure if its good, comments please on how to improve it?
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 10:06 am
Is this a personnal experience?
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- Lune Amour - Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 6:08 pm
Ayako Miyojin Is this a personnal experience? no. . . O.o
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 6:18 pm
II-colombenoire-X Ayako Miyojin Is this a personnal experience? no. . . O.o Ok, just making sure. I'd hate to ramble on about it if I had the wrong idea xd But, I admire this, but in another way, it saddens me because there are so many 'families' like that in this day and age. But, bravo for getting so many emotions through to the readers biggrin
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- Lune Amour - Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:10 pm
Ayako Miyojin II-colombenoire-X Ayako Miyojin Is this a personnal experience? no. . . O.o Ok, just making sure. I'd hate to ramble on about it if I had the wrong idea xd But, I admire this, but in another way, it saddens me because there are so many 'families' like that in this day and age. But, bravo for getting so many emotions through to the readers biggrin oh hee hee ^-^
yeah, this was sort of the
theme I wrote it for, how
violence can have an effect
on anyone.
and thank you :]
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Posted: Fri Nov 12, 2010 6:26 am
II-colombenoire-X Ayako Miyojin II-colombenoire-X Ayako Miyojin Is this a personnal experience? no. . . O.o Ok, just making sure. I'd hate to ramble on about it if I had the wrong idea xd But, I admire this, but in another way, it saddens me because there are so many 'families' like that in this day and age. But, bravo for getting so many emotions through to the readers biggrin oh hee hee ^-^
yeah, this was sort of the
theme I wrote it for, how
violence can have an effect
on anyone.
and thank you :] Brilliant job biggrin
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- Lune Amour - Vice Captain
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