The Sky Cries for Us
I wish you could've stayed with me,
Even just a little longer,
So you could hold me close and keep me safe
And shield me from the sky that cries around us.
Someday, maybe,
You'll return and take my hand,
And lead me through this world of pain and misery
Back to the light I once knew
Chapter 1
Pain… pain is all have I've Felt for 11 years to this day. I stood shaking as a hand came down to slap me hard, leaving a red mark. The person that is connected to the hand is yelling;
"Why The Fuck did you do this?! You've ruined my life you little BITCH!! YOU KILLED HIM!! Why did you have to be born as my rotten bitch of a daughter?! Why couldn't you be more normal like everyone else! Why…"
This person kept on swearing and yelling as they kept on slapping and punching me. This person unfortunately would be my mother. 11 years ago, I was a happy 6 year old that couldn't wish for anything else, other than a happy family, great friends and a great life. But everything changed when my father was killed on his way home by a drunk driver. He had been working late that night, calling us and telling us that he was working late and wouldn't be home for a couple of hours. I understood, but when the police came by, telling us that my father was killed on impact from the accident, I went crazy and cried, and cried hard. I even cried at school the next day at school and had to have my mother come pick me up. After that, my mom didn't attend the funeral so I had gone with my aunt and uncle and their 2 children. After that, my mother went into depression for a while, started drinking, taking pills, doing drugs to keep her mind off my father and started a side job as a stripper, bringing home guy after guy every night. They wouldn't leave until the next morning while I was usually waiting for the bus. When I was at home every night, there would be either fighting or my mom and the guy of the night having sex in the next room.
For a while, I would be staying with my aunt and uncle so that I wouldn't have to deal with my mother. They knew that I hated living with my mother after my father's death so they talked to me and I told them that I wanted to live with them, but then my mother caught wind of me talking to my cousin about it on the phone and told me that they were brainwashing me, and that they wanted me to just live with them so that they could put all their misery on me. But, I didn't believe her, so she had banned me from ever stepping foot in any family house and told me that I couldn't visit them, talk to them, or even IM them. Told me that her family and my father's family only wanted to blame us, so I left it alone and haven't really talked to them at all since.
It was about 2 years after that when she met my step father, Eddie. I thought that my world was finally changing and that I could finally have my mother back from the depression that's has had her since my father's death…. Boy was I wrong. Not only did marriage make her worse, but that's when everything went downhill for me.
About a couple years after the marriage, I got tired and stopped trying to tell my mother that Eddie was making her worse than she was before he came, but every time I did, she would yell at me and tell me;
"You don't know what you're talking about you little brat! He's not what you think you hypocrite!! Now get out of my sight!"
That's when I just stopped trying to help her. And that was when I was 11. But when I was 12, that is when the beatings started. First with slapping, then moving up to bigger things, like; hitting, punching, kicking, etc. they would get worse every day and every year that I lived with mother.
So now, here I stand in my room, standing still as a statue. I knew that something was wrong and dint want to stick around long enough to find out. But when my mother just stopped slapping and hitting me, and left, I saw that she had left my door opened. I knew that this was my only chance to close it, but I have learned from past experiences to not close doors on mother. She then came back with a… whip in hand?! I then realized that she was drunker tonight than any other night and that she had a lot of anger to let out on… guess who… me!
'Oh fuck! Where'd she get that from?! Wait… let me guess, my worthless of a step father who thinks that he can treat her with anything and let her get away with it and have fun with it.' I thought as mother snapped the whip in the air,
"Turn around you little bitch of a no good doing daughter of mine! And pull up your shirt while you're at it!" she snapped as she cracked the whip again.
I did what she said and for about 5 minutes, I didn't hear anything, but that all changed when I felt the first sting from the whip hitting my back. Feeling the cold air and the blood pulsing through my veins felt like ice running down my back, she whipped again, causing me to hear my skin rip on impact. She kept swearing and whipping until I couldn't take it, but held up my resistance.
It was quarter to one by the time that she had stopped whipping me and left with an evil laugh, with me on the ground, trying to stand up. I stood up once I knew that she had gone down stairs. I ran to my door and quickly shut it, in case she wanted to come back for a second round of whipping.
I walked over to my dresser and dug around until I found the alcohol that I had hidden to clean my newest bruises or cut I get. I placed it on my bed while I looked for the few bandages that I had left.
'I can't believe that mother knew about these, but I guess that she didn't want a dead body on her hands…' I though as I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra to investigate the damage that was done tonight.
I was astonished to the cuts that littered my back. I just couldn't believe that a mother could do this, but I thought back to what she was saying earlier and thought better of it. So I just shook my head and started cleaning up the cuts the best I could.
'I can't let mother win… not this time or ever!' I thought as I wrapped my cuts up and put a new shirt one. I went straight to bed. It didn't take long for me to sleep, but before I did, I muttered;
"I didn't kill him mother… it was the monster that was drunk and killed him. I'm not the monster that killed him…." I drifted to sleep and didn't finish. With my father coming to me, haunting my dreams, like he does every night as I sleep and listen to him, as I have done when I was younger.