They say that history repeats itself if nothing is done. If history is simply ignored, then great repercussions shall occur. But yet, we continue to make the same mistakes, to spiral back to where we began, only to live through hell once more. The story of a girl in a distant school, and what happened on the night of her prom was widely known. It was a tale of caution to all evil, and a tale of horror to all. And for a while, society began to change. However, as we well know, society can never really change. The evil ones went back to their own ways as years progressed. Mothers and Fathers continued to beat their children, and one another. Children continued to be emotionally scarred by daily horrors they experienced from one another. There was no escape to the madness. And no lesson was learned from the tale of a girl, in high school, on the night of her prom.
A scream ripped through the slums in the middle of nowhere. It was a sound familiar to the area. Was it another murder, one more rape to add to the red days? Those who wondered at the sound were not far off.
In a shamble called a home, an older man of fifty-four was on top of his ten year old daughter. She screeched in desperation, for help, for anyone to come save her. But they were short lived.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" roared the drunken father. With a loud thud, his fist connected with her face, and her screams fell to whimpers, and tragic sobs.
Lydia pretended not to hear. She curled into a ball behind the closed door down the hall, trying desperately not to hear her little sister's cries for help. She was a coward…and she hated herself for it.
She was a disgusting human being, someone who sacrificed others for herself. But if this life had taught her anything, it was that the ones strong enough to survive would win in the end. She heard the hot, heavy grunts of the drunk in the other room, and the pained cries of little Esther.
She crawled away from the door, feeling bile rise in her throat, hot and guilt ridden. She stretched her arm under her mattress, feeling the wood floor at first, then the hard edge of her journal. She drew it out from beneath its hiding place. It was her sanity, her only safe place in the world. She flipped it open frantically, raging through the pages, scribbled and filled with numerous writings. A pen held the next empty page in the ever decreasing amount of space. She dreaded the day she would run out of freedom. With rapid desperation, she began to scribble, muttering to herself to drown out the sounds of horror in the next room.
"I hear my sister crying, I hear my father sighing, I hear my mother lying, I hear my own soul dying…"
She continued on with the poem, letting her mind run away to a far off land, where she was happy. Where her father didn't drink, and where her mother didn't cheat with an accountant. A place where her little sister would be allowed to be normal. A place where they all could live their lives out without any pain…any suffering.
The screams went on.