Do you even remember me? You certainly didn't acknowledge me when I was living at home. I'm surprised you even remembered my name for those few short years I lived at home.
I remember you. I remember the fear that would grab at me as I walked home. After another failed attempt to sell me. I feared your reaction when you saw me, I wondered if you'd beat me for not staying with whoever bought me.
Every time you sold me I tried to be good for my buyer I wanted to stay with them. They always treated me better than you did. They would feed me and give me an actual bed, not a mat in the corner of the dining room.
Did you even consider me your child? I don't think so. No parent would do that to their kin. I wonder now why I loved you. You beat me, starved me and sold me countless times yet every time I thought about it I realised all I wanted was for you to accept me, like you did the others.
Out of the four of us I was the one who was beaten. When they misbehaved I received their punishment. When it was a day I was permitted to eat you'd give my food to them.
I remember when you forgot to feed me for nearly two weeks. My only way of survival was sneaking water from the tap late at night after you'd passed out on the couch. I used to try to sneak food. It worked for a while; it worked till you found me trying to find something from the back of the fridge, the punishment you gave me when you found me had me unconscious for nearly two days.
When I did awake I found the fridge to be padlocked along with the freezer. I was beaten even more after that, so severely that a large part of my past is gone. Still I can't say I hated you, though I was closer then than I ever was before.
You know the last time you sold me is still vivid in my mind. I was woken by a kick to my back, asleep on my mat like a dog. You had a smile on your face, that was uncommon the only time you ever smiled was when I was crying in a ball on the floor, broken.
I soon found out what had brought on this unexpected smile. Another buyer, a tall man easily twice my size. He looked nice enough, and I heard him say he owned an abbey. I didn't know what an abbey was but it sounded alright, it sounded better than here at least.
I found out you sold me for £500. It was a lot more than you usually got normally it was 2 to 3 hundred at the most.
I was leaving with the strange man before I even knew his name. You didn't even say goodbye. As soon as the money was handed over, you virtually kicked me out. You were much politer to the tall man, thanking him and even offering him something to eat should he wish to stay. Hearing you offer the stranger food so carelessly made me feel sick. I hadn't eaten for a week my stomach was begging for food and I couldn't fulfil its simple request.
I remember watching the house shrink as I was driven away. I had hoped to see you stood outside waving me off. You were outside but instead of waving your youngest goodbye you were busying yourself with counting the money again, just to make sure.
I can imagine what happened when the others came back, though I doubt they cared were I was I allowed myself to dream they did, I can imagine them seeing the empty mat. Asking where I was their questions silenced and forgotten when you revealed the money. Forgotten, just like me.
You never asked him what was happening to me in his abbey. Sometimes, sometimes I wish I had had the courage to tell you how much I loved you to hug you and beg to stay with you. But alas I didn't unaware that where I was going was worse than where I had been.
He tortured me. Beat me so bad I was comatose for a month. Did so many experiments on me I lost count. I do remember the last number I could reach in my count, it was 624, 624 experiments. Had you known I'd wonder how you'd live with yourself. But you probably don't even remember you had a fourth child.
Even if you don't remember me I still feel the need to say. You are no longer my mother; you are a plague to my mind. Nothing but an irremovable stain, a stain you cover so no one knows it's there. You are such stain to me; I covered the abuse you gave me with arrogance, trying to convince myself more than anyone that you mean nothing to me.
But mother you mean so much to me. And none of that is good, you mean fear, I fear sleeping at night in case you are in my dreams. You mean hiding, hiding who I truly am, a child whose early life was taken so cruelly from him, a child who lived with the knowledge that he wasn't wanted, a mistake one you wish you could erase.
You may not have wanted me mother but someone does. I have a family they may not be blood but they are like brothers to me. I wouldn't have been able to survive the abuse I suffered in the abbey if it weren't for them.
I love them mother, I don't love you. I did as a child I sought for your love or at least your acknowledgement that I wasn't a complete failure. Though I received neither I never gave up hope that one day you'd realise how much I loved you and return my love.
As I passed my thirtieth birthday I finally came to terms with the fact that I'd never receive your love. After accepting this I managed to clearly think through what you put me through without using the excuse I had been using for years 'you only do this to help me understand the real world' I finally realised that what I had been experiencing for the past how many years was not love. But hate, but you know what they say love and hate are very close. However there was no mistaking it you may have brought me into this world but it was by your actions that I almost left too soon. Mother I can say with full confidence that I truly hate you.
My friends are now my family, they are the people I turn to for comfort they are the people I share my worries and fears with. They know what you did mother and they don't let it cloud their opinion of me. My friends, my brothers and I are closer than any twin could ever hope to be. They've been there when you should have been.
Mother it doesn't sadden me to say that if you left the land of the living I would not mourn for your passing but rejoice in the knowledge that though you may always be in my mind but you'd never be able to hurt me again.
Standing from my seat in the kitchen I made my way through the front room, where two of my brothers were passed out on the couch the movie still playing silently. Food was spilled on the floor. If I were still a child in that poor excuse of a home I'd have eaten the food without a second thought. Now I didn't have to worry about were my next meal would come from.
I covered the two boys; both so opposite to the other but still close friends one a tall blond the other short with purple hair. Out of all the horrible things the abbey did it had brought some good things. These two wouldn't even know of the others existence if it hadn't been for the abbey, now after so many years they are the closest a friend could get.
Leaving the two to an uncomfortable sleep on the couch I left for my room. Stopping for a brief moment to look at a lilac haired boy curled up in bed. He was a testament to the human will. They tried to turn him into a monster but never succeeded he was still the same boy I had met upon my arrival to the prison.
The years of torture he experienced did have an effect on him. How could it not? It affected him by making him wary of others; he made himself out to be a vicious person so others would fear him. It was only through fear did he feel safe, safe at knowing that as long as they feared him they wouldn't hurt him.
I closed the boy's bedroom door going in search now of our final member, I had planned to sleep but now all I wanted to do was be beside my best friend. We had gone through everything together; in the days I felt I couldn't go on he would give me the strength to stand back up.
The bluenette was still awake, fingers running over the smooth surface of dranzer; he did this when he wanted to think, the faithful phoenix never leaving his side. I knocked on the open door. Looking at me his eyes inquired why I was there. Not saying a word I slipped under his cover and curled myself up.
"Goodnight" I whispered knowing he wouldn't kick me out. He was the first person to never do that.
"Goodnight"
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