What were the chances of a young girl running away from the monsters that inhabited the dark, creepy, streets? Slim to none.
I don't even know how I was capable of out running them. The odds seemed all against me, and nothing seemed to be on my side. All I knew I had to run, and continued to run even if my feet were burning, and my throat was dry. There was no time to stop and catch my breath like we did in pre school, when we chased each other for fun. This wasn't my idea of fun, it was they're idea of fun. They loved watching me run, flee for my life. Watching me blaze in fear, something that made they're mouths melt, something that made them run after me until they got what they desired. This was just an early wake up call; it opened my eyes to something that was real. The truth. The life that children weren't meant to live or see, but I got a glimpse, that turned into a glimpse of my future. The one I'm still living so far, right now.
" Don't run away. Come and play with us. We'll have fun. If not, we'll play another game.. That involves ropes, and you screaming. Either way we'll have fun won't we?"
When I was younger, I didn't even know exactly what they were trying to hint at. All I knew something in my gut was telling me to just run. Don't answer, don't stop, don't look back, just run; and ignore everything else. I could hardly see where I was even running to; everything was just a blur and everything happened so quick. They all laughed gruesomely, flicking their cigarettes letting them burn the dead colored grass.
There was no where to run; all I knew there was a dead street after dead street, and anybody was in sight to save me. My father hadn't remembered where I was, and my mother was still working late.
" Daddy! Mommy!"
I screamed out just like any child in danger would. I just looked up star covered skies imagining they're faces hoping they'd just run out like always and save me from danger.
I knew even at that age, I was just a young girl that couldn't outrun teenagers, but I didn't let that idea even cross my mind. They kept shouting and laughing making the hairs stand on end, while I was blindly running for something, or someone to save me.
The question did anyone save me? Could I even save myself? No. Everything was a blur afterwards. Only laughter and bruises were the only thing I could remember. My mother's car pulling to the curve in alarm when she saw the state I was in. I was like a wounded animal just sitting and waiting to die. Waiting for the pain and suffering to blow over. In a sense I deserved it. No young girl was allowed to stay outside, and they proved that. Every single one of them.
I still pass by that park. The memories..The sweet memories of me being a young, foolish girl that lost everything; her mother, respect for her father, and respect for the whole world and herself. Maybe that's why I'm so bitter. I lost more than that, I lost my dignity, my soul, my heart, and apart of myself I'll never get back. The part that held such beauty, and happiness.
Like fruit gone rotten. Transformed after being left unprotected, and left to rot inside and out. They raped and stole a piece of me that I'll never get back, ever. The ounce of happiness…it was stolen away from the young girl. The young girl that was dead along time ago…
My mother came, but too late. Isn't that how it is? When you need help the most it's never there, and when you don't need it it's around? Just my theory that I believe is true.
The minute she smelt the thick sickening toxic beer fuming from my father's mouth, and her young child not in bed she knew I was alone, and the possibilities of what could happen.. after all I could have been dead. Sometimes I believe that occurrence was an early death to put me out of my misery for the years ahead. I regret my mother picking me up and rushing me to the hospital. Yet, I love her cause it proved someone loved me and cared for me and that I wasn't alone. A mother would want anything for their child; to be safe and live a strong, healthy life. You can't blame her. Then again I was never put out of my misery.. That just brought me into more.
My park never looked emptier. The swings swung in the light mid breeze as though children were moving them. I hated going pass that park. I could remember exactly where I fell and where the blood stained the road and the grass. I was robbed off my childhood if anyone has a right to complain I do. I don't know why they try to make it seem like they have problems. If they were in my shoes they'd see the world and life in a new angle, and they'd probably beg to have their old life back.
" Maybe it would have been better if I died then. I think living is more torment than dying it's self. Mother I can't blame you though. I love you a lot. You did everything for me you could possibility do. Even placing your life on the line. Now everything is going to change. I'll get dad to rot in hell for what he does. I promise." I kept telling myself looking up to the distant stars thinking of my mother, imagining her soft, supple face and the cheery smile she always wore. Nobody could be that happy if they knew they were in danger, and living with a crazy father. I think she only wore that smile to make it seem like everything was alright. Fact it, it never was.
My feet just dragged through the puddles that swallowed the roads. My head just lifted the moment my house came into my sight, my view. It looked like hell more than ever. You could tell the house was rotting inside out. The windows were completely broken in, and the panels from the side were just holding on by a thread. As much as I want to run away the fact is I can't, not until I get everything done I need to. Once I do I'll be gone and out of sight forever. I had to grow up early just to take care of myself and my father. I plan to leave him rotting there without any money to waste. Without me he'd be nothing.
He could control my mother but he's not going to control me. Or kill me either.
My feet just hit the deformed cement stairs leading up to the small porch towards the front door. I could only swallow knowing my father was in there just by the smashing glasses of beer bottles and loud music raging from the television. It was like entering hell.
My throat was already dry and my fists were red as anything. I just prayed I knew enough self-defensive to leave him mark and bruises, or even leave him dead. If Inuyasha could take me down, my father could with just one hand wrapped around my neck. My hands grasp the brass doorknob opening the door the slightest to see the huge figure with a mound of beer bottles around my mother's flower printed sofa. You could walk in and smell the disgusting beer fumes. The beer was everywhere. In the carpet, the sofa, and usually in his hands. My mom's beautiful sofa was so white and bright and now, it's stained and beaten up.
" Kikyo where the hell were you…You stupid slut.. " His heavy voice yelled, taking the beer bottle away from his lips and trashing in down on the carpet. I stood right in front of the door way glaring at him, hating his guts for even saying a word to me. The slut comment didn't bother me, I was surprised he could even form a sentence properly after all the beers he drank. I wanted him to die, drop dead of alcohol poisoning so I wouldn't have to deal with him at all. I prayed I had the guts to murder himself, but I'd probably have regrets like humans do, but he never did. Frozen in the door way I refused to even answer to him, I just bite my lip and crawled towards the stairwell hoping he'd go back to the television again.
My hands grasped the stair railing, slowly taking it upstairs to stay in my room and keep my sane. I just wanted to escape, but I just couldn't. I didn't have the money yet and I just wanted my father to die, or behind bars. I didn't want to run away knowing my father was still living, still breathing, when he deserved to perish because what he did to my mother. How sweet it was to get greeted by your father getting called a slut…He doesn't even know me anymore, and I'm glad he doesn't. He'll drown in his beer soon enough. He was the one who let me get hurt, he was the one who left my childhood empty. He was the one who let strangers caress me, fondle me, and try to murder me. If I died then would you have even cared? Probably not.
" Kikyo come here…little lady.. Let's have a talk just between you and I. Father and daughter…" He actually raised himself off my mother's sofa, the front of his shirt stained with beer and food and stumble all over his face. I didn't trust him word, I didn't let myself place my guard down no matter what he seem to say. He was intoxicated, those words meant nothing to me. We weren't father and daughter anymore. A father and daughter would be close, caring, and would never abuse her. I didn't let the past corrupt me. All I knew I was going to have to leave, and leave him in misery.
I didn't dare to look at him. I didn't want to make me fall and believed he cared. I almost did for that moment. The way he said it sounded so sincere, so real, so human. My head was pounding, but I squeezed my eyes tightly letting that memory fade and proceeded up the stairs without hesitation. I had nobody to run to. Nobody to listen to me cry, and care. The phone was useless, it was only for calling the police or ordering food. My hands stumbled for the door knob of my room, flying into my room and locking the door and throwing myself on my bed. My black hair was all sweaty in face, and I just expected my father to go back into his chair and rot some more… but no I was wrong…
' Kikyo don't believe that.. He's intoxicated, he's lying. Don't you dare believe him." My voice kept telling me over and over again, to be strong and don't let anything stand in your way. I felt trapped inside my own mind, and my own world.. but I was the only one who felt like that? Was I the only teenager who was robbed of everything? Robbed of a mother, her dignity, and her childhood? Maybe I wasn't but still that emptiness remained.
"So full of life.. yet so empty.." I could only whisper myself staring at my reflection harshly looking at the pitiful, broken, heavy hearted girl looking straight at me. "Who will save you?" I could hear myself ask and I could only pitiful stare at the ground and pick at my bracelet. " Nobody can…"
I just threw myself into my warped bed, feeling the springs underneath uncomfortably stab into my back. Tomorrow I had to continue my lessons doing self defensive, and also go to my Psychiatrist. Lay there and talk about my problems…Like he can do a single thing about it. All he can do is nod and place in advice, but nothing that will save me anyways. What good are they for? Fucking nothing. I've been going for two years and yet my problems aren't going away and they never will. Not after my own mother was murdered, and the fact I witnessed it all. How can that not corrupt you? Does he expect me to magically be cured and have a happy normal life? No way in hell….
Banging came from my door. My father pounding harder and harder, that made my heart crawl to my throat and it thrown back into it's original spot. He was trying to come in, and in my mind for all the wrong reasons. He always sat in front of the television drinking beers but instead, he was going after me. My father's beating on the down didn't stop. His shouting and ranting use to scare me, but I knew what I could expect…hell.." Kikyo you fucking slut get out here…Don't make me come in there you bitch…"
The lock was already breaking apart while he stormed in, grabbing me, while my hands and nails painfully dug into the floor.To remember all the scars…not the scars that flake off and someday heal..the type of scars that will always bleed inside of me.
Author's Notes: Well another disturbing chapter of mine. Please RR!