(This is a short preview of a new story I am working on.)
I can’t remember anything before the age of five; it’s like a black screen, nothing was there… But, what I can remember is something I wish I would forget. I remember my fathers’ rough palm across my mouth, muffling my screams and cries. His dusty work pants expired around his ankles. His black belt tightened around my wrists, while the queen bed pound against the wall, while my mother screamed foul phrases with every hit. I remember my father taking his calloused hand and whip it across my cheeks, my back, my wrists. My father would take his belt and leave welts on the back of my thighs, my waist, my arms. There would be nasty, yellow bruises on my breasts, hips, neck. Across my thighs, and my wrists. They would never end just there…
I also remember my mothers harsh words brashing my face; “go to hell,” “you bitch!” “is there something wrong with you,” “you fucking whore!”
Words I never loved, words that lead to nothing but self-hate and depression. Words that eventually meant nothing. Mother verbally slapped my self esteem, day in and day out, she would taunt… belittle, and mutilate the love I had for my self until it disappeared alltogether.
At school, it was no different, besides the still atmosphere when I used to walk in with a bruise and a bandaid on my face. Teachers, parents, classmates; they wouldn’t ask, and I wouldn’t tell. The children ignored me, not a single one looked at me in the eyes, they stared at the visible pain on my face, wondering ‘what the fuck.’ Up until the bruises went away, the kids knowingly and publicly avoided me, but now, they just outcast me. They aren’t afraid anymore, these are just the type of people who socially outcast you. Rumors were spread around, so now, all the kids that know me and also the kids that don’t, they think I used to be in all sorts of fights. No one knew anything, no one knows the truth.
Since I don’t get bruises on my face, they are left longer on every other part of my body. I guess my father doesn’t want to rape and ugly girl anymore.
4 responses to “A Life You’ll Never Love”
I am also on Plinky.com. I Just discovered your writing this afternoon. Personally, I think you have a lot of writing in you, and the more you write, the more you will unfold your petals and become that beautiful flower you can be.
I have many memories from my past, too. There have also been many tragedies in my life, as well. Life isn’t always a bed of roses, and that is something you already know.
I know how difficult it is to try to erase memories of things which traumatized you. Keep looking and you will find the answers, and gradually, the sun can shine through.
Yeah, those things that I have written, not all true, and not all based just with me. I have my problems and hopefully I can soon accept that they have happened. Then will I be free from the metal shackles that keep me from running with the flow of life.
Thank you for you comment, it brought a smile to my face, and shed some light on the end of the day for me!
I am really glad you discovered my writing, it makes me very excited to know people read this!
Have a wonderful day, and smile.
I write on many subjects, some true, some based on real events, and some fictionalized versions of real events. I also write a lot about animals, the Bible as well as healthy eating, and natural foods, etc.
We can both look forward to reading some rather interesting pieces. You might also look up “SillyFrogSusan,” whose real name is Susan St. Pierre. She has a WP blog, and is quite a poet, too.
I’ll see to that sometime.
The subjects I write on are popular these days, like Twilight, but my vampire stories are not a bit like the crystal like vegans in her books. I like writing very intense things, intensity, romantic and very sensible things. It’s like things that I want.
I want to write like my favorite book, White Oleander by Janet Fitch. It’s truly intense and beautiful.