Love is a Battlefield
Excerpts from various Paramedics and police officers. Her
"… it was such a gruesome sight…" It was.
"… I still can't sleep…" You can't?
"… who could have done such a thing…" Easy -- Him.
"… God help her and be with her…" God? Ha. Where was he then?
"… bare hands, only one weapon…" Bare hands? I swear there was red gloves on my hands.
"… very lucky…" Lucky? Heh, maybe, but lucky I'm alive or that he's dead?
They say I should be happy that I lived. I'm not.
They say it's natural that I mourn and feel sad. I don't.
They say I shouldn't blame myself. I do.
They say I should try and get on with my life. It's only been a week.
They say others have been through worse. I agreed.
Eventually they got made whole again, they got put back together.
---------------------------------------
Questions keep running through my mind.
Why?
Why us?
Why our house?
Why my family?
Why that night? That time?
They keep asking what happened. I haven't said anything yet. I'm supposed to be writing it down. I guess I should start;
My family was murdered. Cut down. Slaughtered. Destroyed.. *scoff*
"Unrecognizable" is the term they used.
It was the beginning of the summer before my grade 12 year. We were watching a movie on some T.V. channel. Harry Potter I think. Who knows now.
I had gone downstairs to grab a new pop bottle and my brother was teasing me on the walkie-talkie he had just got me. He was talking to me when the doorbell rang. A blip-like sound was on the other side when the door opened. I heard a muffled sound coming from upstairs then a loud thud. I ran upstairs and into the dining room which had a door opening to the living room where the front door was. I looked through the door and saw my dad on the floor with my mom sitting next to him with tears running down her face. There was a growing pool of red next to my father. My brother was at gun point looking at the man who was about to destroy my life.
The only phone that was working at the moment was next to my dad.
The man just sat there, watching as my father bled to death. My mother was next; he grabbed a knife out of his pocket and cut her up so bad. Leaving her alive just long enough to watch him cut off my fathers face. My brother was leaning over puking, tears were streaming down my face.
My mother died screaming.
My brother died fighting for me. He had seen me hiding around the corner and had tried to make a distraction so I could get out. It didn't work.
I had made it to the kitchen, the walkie-talkie in my pocket. The man pressed it and he heard the beep from me. I ran and hid in the front closet.
He found me.
His knife carved into my skin that night. The worst were the ones on my back when I had tried to run.
I had kicked his groin and ended up in the kitchen again. I saw the knife on the counter. I grabbed it.
I… I… *sigh* He's dead now, that's all that matters.
They keep telling me that, but he's not gone. He's still there when I close my eyes. He won't leave me.
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Her name is Ciel.
She has circles under her eyes. Her friends are gone. She is barely passing school. In grade 12 the girl had gone from steady B's to border-line D's. It was a well known fact why. When one loses her family something like this is bound to happen. She stays in a corner in the school library just reading. Over and over, the same book.