I sit awkwardly on the only bed in the room. He still hasn't said much of anything to me. "Thank you" I manage to get out at a little more than a whisper. "Mmmhmmm" He replies. He pulls up a chair from the table in the corner and sits in front of the TV.. he doesn't want to be here. "You can go if you want, I'll be fine." He ignores me. I look for a bible in the drawers and read the story of why they the bibles in hotels. He answers a knock at the door. It's Jorge and Dominic with pizza and a case of beer. I keep my head down because I know I look crazy with smudged makeup and tear streaks. They start telling Jonathan about a mission they are about to go do but he makes them step outside with him. I can no longer be trusted with such precious information. He comes back inside alone. "You can go with them if you want" I say. He looks at me as if I just said I grew a penis while he was outside. He grabs a beer and sits back in the chair. " I already did my work for today." He says, how much it hurts to not be a part of his world anymore, to be an outsider. "Are they coming back?" I ask, eyeing the case and wondering what one person would need with 24 beers. "Why? You want one of 'em to fuck you or something?" Ouch, it's like a spear through my heart how he carries on with me. He polishes off 6 beers in a row and I try to get him to take a bite of pizza but he won't. His mom shows up with some Olive Garden bread sticks and Alfredo dipping sauce. My favorite. She offers to take some of the beers home but he won't let her. She offers to reimburse him and take us both to her house but he says no and tells her harshly to leave. She extends just me the offer but I shake my head no. I've missed him so, I don't want to leave now. Even if he's already belligerently drunk. He turns on some porn, with his back to the TV, sitting backwards in the chair, he just stares at me. He knows how much I hate it. I keep reading the bible in my hands. "Are you a fucking dyke?" He asks me with his head cocked to the side. "What?" I say confused. "Well are you?" "No." "Then why did you leave me?" "Johnny I didn't leave you, you cou..." "Don't call me Johnny I don't know your ass!" This is pointless, I continue reading and he turns to watch the naked girls on the screen.
After awhile and a couple more beers later, he walks over to me. He grabs me chin with one hand and holds the top of my head still with the other. He points my face to the TV. "Are you a dyke?" He asks me again except it sounds more like an accusation. "NO!" I say without being able to open my jaw to speak. He keeps his grip on my head and jerks it up towards his face. "Then why have you been calling her?" I must look confused because he gets mad and explains. "MONAE! I saw your phone bill. We get into a small argument and you go running back into her arms. Conditional! Your love is CONDITIONAL!" He's shaking my head with every syllable but his grip is so tight I'm scared to resist. "I do love you Johnny, I do." "I said I don't know your ass!" He screams at me while he throws me onto the bed. Much harder than he expected because he looks surprised when I bounce and hit my head on the wall. "I should leave" I say as I get up. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. "No, I didn't rent this motel room to jack off to porn." He kisses me, hard, meaningless and full of hate. I'm scared so I kiss him back. He jerks his head back and spits on the ground. "I knew it you're a fucking slut! Virgin my ass, you're probably full of n****r dick . Aren't you! You just can't say no to anybody" "No Jonathan. I just don't know what you want from me. I can't do anything right. I kissed you because I love you." It's the truth but it wasn't my reason. "My love isn't conditional Jonathan, look how you treat me and I've never turned my back on you."
We both look down at the grip he still has on my arm. When he looks back up at me the rage is back. He shakes me "Look at what you've made me do! YOU! You did this to me, you're so GODDAMN stubborn! I know what's right for you but you can never listen!" I see him cock his hand back and then there's a pause. When his hand comes back into reach the hotel phone receiver is in it. He swing at me with it and I try to get away but land on the bed. "Fucking bitch! Just listen to me!" "What am I supposed to do?" "SSHHUUTT UUPP!" The phone comes back down on my arms that are over my face. This isn't him, I have to fight, the man I love isn't in this room. I thrust my palm into his nose. He winces and drops the phone. I grab it. He grabs the Alfredo sauce and throws it my head but it hits the wall splattering me and the bed. "What the fuck is wrong now? You think you're a bad bitch?" His voice, the look in his eyes, the blood dripping down his face, the menacing way he's cracking his knuckles and cocking his head from side to side. I don't know who this is. I am frightened with nothing but the phone I hold in my hands and no will to dial 911. He lunges for me , knocking me back onto the bed and pins my hands down on either side of my head. He lets the blood from his nose drip down onto my face. He lifts his head and exhales deeply from his nose spraying blood all over the wall, bed and me. He puts his face close to mine again as if he's going to kiss me and then rub his nose up and down my cheek smearing the blood. "I fucked some girl with HIV cuz I wanted to die." He says then lets go of my wrists and walks to the bathroom. I should be scared but I don't believe him. I hear the shower turn on and I know I'm free to go.
I look in the mirror and see a puffy eyed, blood streaked, crazy haired girl who looks more like a drugged up prostitute than a 17 year old child. LEAVE! I tell myself in the mirror. Go home. Go anywhere. Ask Lisa to take you to dad's. I hear him crying in the shower. I can't leave him. I love him so much more than I love myself. I walk into the bathroom naked and get in. I clean him up, hold him as he cries. We have sex. But it feels like just that. The shift in our world didn't happen. I try to get him to look me in the eyes but he refuses, shaking his head no. "Just go Emily. I have nothing to give you, nothing to offer. You deserve it all." "No" I protest. "You're enough I swear!" "No Emily. It's not just you. I deserve better too. You're toxic for ME. You make me madder than I've ever been. I can't control myself. You need to go." Naked, wet, cold, I could not have picked a worse time for my world to crash in around me and need to save face at the same time. I get out, dry off, get dressed and walk the freezing 5am streets till I know my step dad will be at work. I go to my moms walk to my brother and sister's room and fall asleep. The closest thing to death and I peace I can feel.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Loyalty
It's been about two weeks and Jonathan and I still haven't talked. I've started going to parties with Sarah out of spite. Although I wish I could just ask for my promise ring back and kiss and make up. I still have my cell since he paid for it already and I'm back talking to all my old friends. During one of the parties Aaron calls to see how I'm doing and that throws me for a loop. At another party we run into Jonathan and although he doesn't talk to me he manages to keep any guy from talking to me so we leave early to go to the after party and after he follows us there I go home. At home the amount of time I am spending there is wearing my step dad's nerves thin. He has moved us into the townhome next door to ours and in the process left me without a room and no where to go when he starts drinking.
On one night in particular he is not drunk but in one of his moods nonetheless. He is picking my mom apart. Pinching her arms, stomach, legs telling her how flabby she is. (My mom has always been about 100lbs which still seems super skinny on her 5'2" frame) Finally I can't take it anymore. I walk into the kitchen and poke his shirtless gut, pinch his arm "Really? Really? You with your beer belly and rail thin arms are making fun of her? Give me break!" I've woken the beast. He's in my face screaming, poking me backwards. My mom starts screaming when he grabs me by the arm. I shove him off me. My brother comes running down the stairs begging me to stop, not to make him mad. My mom is trying to pull him away from me but he tries to shake her off and backhands her in the process. "Just go!" She is telling me, I'm making things worse. I go outside and our neighbors are already outside their houses, but he is relentless. He follows me out and shoves me from behind. I stumble forward and turn around. I've had enough I get back in his face. I can't hear my mom screaming anymore just white noise. All I can see is his red face and every horrible memory I have of him on top of me. Everything in me wants to hit him, but that's what he wants. With every step he takes forward the closer I get to the busy street behind me. I hear horns behind me and see my mom and all the neighbors on the phone. He cocks his hand back to punch me but suddenly he whips around and I don't know why. Then I see him, Jonathan. My step dad swings at him and Jonathan bobs out of the way. "Calm down!" He shouts and puts his hands up in surrender. My step-dad backs him into the street and swings again, Jonathan ducks. My step dad is getting gassed from missing. He turns and walks into the house but not without the last word "Next time I'll beat your ass you stupid bitch!" Jonathan comes up and asks me if I'm OK, I lie and say yes. He says OK and walks back to his apartment. I sit there on the curb under the street light. The sun has already set and I have no clue where to go. My mom comes out with a jacket, my cell phone and charger signs to me sorry and that she loves me through tears and walks back inside. I understand, he pays the bills and she has two small children to think about. I'm 6 months shy of 18, I need to fend for myself.
I walk around the block, use the restroom at Denny's and go back to my spot on the curb. I don't know what to do but I refuse to cry. I don't know anyone out here but Sarah and Jonathan. Sarah's mom doesn't want to "choose sides" she says and I don't dare ask Jonathan. I contemplate calling my dad....I dial the number, my sister answers. I haven't heard her voice in so long. I sit there just to hear her say hello. She finally hangs up and I give in to my tears. What makes me so undeserving of kindness, or love? To be a part of my own family? What makes me so disposable? I used to think that suicide would make them understand how much I am hurting, how lonely I feel. But I'm gone, I've been gone and no one has cared to find me. A set of parents, a set of step parents, 5 siblings but I'm an orphan. I have no place to call home. I sit out in the cold air of the desert we live in feeling like my fingers and nose are going to fall off. "Where are you going to sleep?" Jonathan texts me. "Don't worry about it" I text back. I sit there with a numb butt, freezing and wishing I wasn't so stubborn.
I hear someone walking towards me for like the umpteenth time and have given up raising my head to see who it is. Then I see them out of the corner of my eye, blue and white cortez and bright white socks. "Come on" I hear Jonathan say. I look up and he's holding out a pendleton jacket. I shake my head no. He lifts me up by my armpit. I follow him, huddled up inside his jacket, as he walks ahead of me. He stops abruptly and a big black Chevy Tahoe with blacked out windows pulls up in front of us. He opens the door for me, I shake my head no. I know who that car belongs to, it's not someone I want to be associated with, not a face I want to know. He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in. I feel so out of place. More than I do at any of their gang's parties. Maybe because I'm sober. I keep quiet, more so not to draw attention to my makeup streaked face than from intimidation. We pull up to a Motel 6 that's two blocks away from my house. Jonathan hands ****** money and he gets out to get a room. Neither Jonathan nor I are old enough to purchase one on our own. As we walk up to the room we see a cuffed half naked girl being escorted to a police car and a bunch of men cat calling her from the story above. "I'm staying with you" Jonathan tells me. I act annoyed but I'm relieved.
*Originally written January 20th 2012
On one night in particular he is not drunk but in one of his moods nonetheless. He is picking my mom apart. Pinching her arms, stomach, legs telling her how flabby she is. (My mom has always been about 100lbs which still seems super skinny on her 5'2" frame) Finally I can't take it anymore. I walk into the kitchen and poke his shirtless gut, pinch his arm "Really? Really? You with your beer belly and rail thin arms are making fun of her? Give me break!" I've woken the beast. He's in my face screaming, poking me backwards. My mom starts screaming when he grabs me by the arm. I shove him off me. My brother comes running down the stairs begging me to stop, not to make him mad. My mom is trying to pull him away from me but he tries to shake her off and backhands her in the process. "Just go!" She is telling me, I'm making things worse. I go outside and our neighbors are already outside their houses, but he is relentless. He follows me out and shoves me from behind. I stumble forward and turn around. I've had enough I get back in his face. I can't hear my mom screaming anymore just white noise. All I can see is his red face and every horrible memory I have of him on top of me. Everything in me wants to hit him, but that's what he wants. With every step he takes forward the closer I get to the busy street behind me. I hear horns behind me and see my mom and all the neighbors on the phone. He cocks his hand back to punch me but suddenly he whips around and I don't know why. Then I see him, Jonathan. My step dad swings at him and Jonathan bobs out of the way. "Calm down!" He shouts and puts his hands up in surrender. My step-dad backs him into the street and swings again, Jonathan ducks. My step dad is getting gassed from missing. He turns and walks into the house but not without the last word "Next time I'll beat your ass you stupid bitch!" Jonathan comes up and asks me if I'm OK, I lie and say yes. He says OK and walks back to his apartment. I sit there on the curb under the street light. The sun has already set and I have no clue where to go. My mom comes out with a jacket, my cell phone and charger signs to me sorry and that she loves me through tears and walks back inside. I understand, he pays the bills and she has two small children to think about. I'm 6 months shy of 18, I need to fend for myself.
I walk around the block, use the restroom at Denny's and go back to my spot on the curb. I don't know what to do but I refuse to cry. I don't know anyone out here but Sarah and Jonathan. Sarah's mom doesn't want to "choose sides" she says and I don't dare ask Jonathan. I contemplate calling my dad....I dial the number, my sister answers. I haven't heard her voice in so long. I sit there just to hear her say hello. She finally hangs up and I give in to my tears. What makes me so undeserving of kindness, or love? To be a part of my own family? What makes me so disposable? I used to think that suicide would make them understand how much I am hurting, how lonely I feel. But I'm gone, I've been gone and no one has cared to find me. A set of parents, a set of step parents, 5 siblings but I'm an orphan. I have no place to call home. I sit out in the cold air of the desert we live in feeling like my fingers and nose are going to fall off. "Where are you going to sleep?" Jonathan texts me. "Don't worry about it" I text back. I sit there with a numb butt, freezing and wishing I wasn't so stubborn.
I hear someone walking towards me for like the umpteenth time and have given up raising my head to see who it is. Then I see them out of the corner of my eye, blue and white cortez and bright white socks. "Come on" I hear Jonathan say. I look up and he's holding out a pendleton jacket. I shake my head no. He lifts me up by my armpit. I follow him, huddled up inside his jacket, as he walks ahead of me. He stops abruptly and a big black Chevy Tahoe with blacked out windows pulls up in front of us. He opens the door for me, I shake my head no. I know who that car belongs to, it's not someone I want to be associated with, not a face I want to know. He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in. I feel so out of place. More than I do at any of their gang's parties. Maybe because I'm sober. I keep quiet, more so not to draw attention to my makeup streaked face than from intimidation. We pull up to a Motel 6 that's two blocks away from my house. Jonathan hands ****** money and he gets out to get a room. Neither Jonathan nor I are old enough to purchase one on our own. As we walk up to the room we see a cuffed half naked girl being escorted to a police car and a bunch of men cat calling her from the story above. "I'm staying with you" Jonathan tells me. I act annoyed but I'm relieved.
*Originally written January 20th 2012
Trust Issues
I awake in the morning to a note from Jonathan. He would be back in a couple hours "p.s Happy Valentines Day Cricket!!". I don't know what else to do but go home and get my gifts for him together. I wait two hours.. three...four. I'm becoming impatient. What kind of valentines day is this if I can't even spend it with the person I love? He hasn't responded to any of the texts I've sent from my mom's phone. Finally I cave and call him. "I'll be home soon OK? Bye." And he hangs up. What the hell! Wherever he was sounded busy. I'm starting to become irritated. I call him back "Where are you!?" I demand "Tell her I said to kick back" a girl's voice says, I'm pretty sure it belongs to Dominic's girlfriend. "Kick back woman!!" He says laughing and hangs up. I'm so mad I start to cry. Was I really that naive? Did I really think after all I had seen I was somehow the exception to the rule? That even though all his friends had multiple girls my man was going to remain faithful? I text him that it's over. He texts me back that I am ruining the surprise and to relax. Call me and say you love me I text him. He calls me but it's Dom's girlfriend "Relax Emily I have your back OK?" and she hangs up. I feel a little less queasy but not entirely so. Four more hours pass by. I am done. The whole day is gone, what could possibly take soo long? I text him not to bother with anything at all. He texts me to come over. I ignore it. He shows up at my door, I ignore it and tell my mom and step dad not to answer the door. Then I hear a loud bang. Even my hard of hearing mom and step-dad hear it, my mom yells for me to come downstairs. The front door is open and she's pointing outside. In our front yard is a cell phone box split open and half it's contents spilled out onto the lawn. I turn to leave it but see my mom start walking towards it so I go to pick it up instead. As I bend to pick up the pink phone Jonathan comes out from the side of our townhouse "Happy now bitch?" he says and walks towards his house. The next day we talk for hours, he has no explanation for where he was. All he can come up with is that he was at the mall with Dom and his girlfriend so they could help pick out a phone. Even if I include the promise ring and gift certificate he got me there's no reason why it took more than eight hours. I just couldn't accept that. There were too many holes in his story. He becomes angry that I am even questioning him and grabs me by my throat and throws me against the wall. "Why can't you love me?" he asks through tears, I can't get words around his grip. "Why? What have I done to you?" I claw at his hand. He lets go and I gasp for air. "I'm sorry. Just go." He collapses on his bed next to the Cowboys jacket and wallet I got him and I can see the gift bag and his shoulders shake from his sobs. I sit on his bed and stroke his head. He reaches up to grab my hand, I think he is going to hold it but he squeezes it, hard. He turns his head toward me "Get the fuck out or I'll have my mom do it for you." He says through gritted teeth. "You don't have to tell me twice." I say, holding back tears as I walk away.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
*Originally written January 12th 2012
**Stuck in My Head**
It's the most vivid memory I have. It's before my dad left us. I see my bed that looks like a picket fence, my room, our apartment, the screen door with a bright shining day on the other side of it. It's like I close my eyes and I am there. I am small and I still believe the songs on the radio are sung by little elves that live inside of it. I cannot remember what I did wrong but all my memories of her start this way. I am laying on my stomach on my bed. My legs are tied together at the ankles and she is crying and tying my hands behind my back. I know there is no use but I try to get away and end up falling onto the floor. She pushes me into my open closet and kicks me in the stomach. I lay there on the floor crying and imagine myself somewhere else. I don't know how many times she's done this to me but I do know I knew I would be let out before my dad got home. She lets me out and unties me. My dad comes home and sees my wrists and they start fighting. She is ironing a red polka dot dress of mine for meeting and then tries to hit my dad with the iron. Aiming first at his head and then between his legs. He dodges each one and holds her by her wrists. She screams for help as if he's beating her. He takes the iron out of hands and places it back on the board. She stays on the couch holding her wrists as if they are broken and my dad grabs me and my sister and walks out the door, leaving her in her misery. We go to my aunt's and my dad has to go back downstairs because she's called the police like she always does. Nothing out of the ordinary just what I've come to expect from my poor excuse of a mother....
*Originally written January 12th 2012
*Originally written January 12th 2012
**Mind Games**
I hate small spaces and I hate being restrained. I REALLY REALLY hate them. When I was in high school one of my best guy friends used to pin me against the wall, feet on top of mine, elbows pinning my arms and hands enclosing my face and his. "You're in a box Em's, you're in a box and you can't get out." I would hyperventilate and panic until he dies laughing and I would laugh it off but really I completely hated it. I hated feeling stuck, forced, trapped but ironically where would I go when I couldn't deal with reality? Under a bed, in a small closet, under my blankets. Hiding.
I'm probably around 7. I'm at my dad's new condo. And SHE's here. My dad's new girlfriend. He is cooking breakfast and going on and on about how much she just LOOOOVVES children and how she is going to be a child psycologist yada yada yada. I can barely pay attention to anything besides their random makeout sessions. "Why does she have to be here?" I ask pushing my eggs around. "Emily that's rude." "It's rude to makeout in front of people's kids." I smartly reply. "Go to your room" It's not a room it's a loft I think but I know I'm pushing it. "Tell me why you can't just spend time with us by yourself and see her when we're not here." I'm whining. "Go to your room!" he barks at me. "Why? I just asked you a question." I know I am right. "Because I said so" "Because is not an answer" I tell him, he says that to me all the time. "Now!" I stomp up the stairs. I look down to them eating breakfast together and my sister making them laugh. "Traitor" I say under my breath. Suddenly I can't breathe, I want to go home. I want to know what to expect, I hate it here I don't understand it. I crawl into a space in wall, a place to store cables I think. I can only fit if I curl up into a ball. I sit in there and cry and cry. I start to fall asleep and then I hear them on the other side calling for me, I find a latch on the inside and lock it. My dad tells me to come out so we can go to church. Church? What? We're Jehovah's Witnesses, what is he talking about. "NOOO" I scream He pounds on the door and screams at me to come out now. I hear his girlfriend talking and a shuffling outside of the door. I hear her outside the door. It's low to the ground and I can picture her on the other side stooped "down to my level" like a "good psychologist". "Emily I understand this is all new to you and it's probably too much to handle at once but you're really hurting your daddy's feelings." "what about mine?" "Emily it isn't nice to always think of yourself, your dad does a lot for you girls." "He's never around, only my mom is." "Well from what I understand your mom is not the best mom." Child psychologist my ass! "You shouldn't talk bad about people's parents it makes them HATE you." "Are you in the closet because that's where your mom would put you?" How could he tell her about that? That's not her business. For whatever reason I feel the need to protect my mom from this..this outsider, this intruder into our world. I get myself out. "See, there you go" SHE says. "I want to go home" "Emily your dad..." "My dad is dead" I say and this time it's true... to me.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
I'm probably around 7. I'm at my dad's new condo. And SHE's here. My dad's new girlfriend. He is cooking breakfast and going on and on about how much she just LOOOOVVES children and how she is going to be a child psycologist yada yada yada. I can barely pay attention to anything besides their random makeout sessions. "Why does she have to be here?" I ask pushing my eggs around. "Emily that's rude." "It's rude to makeout in front of people's kids." I smartly reply. "Go to your room" It's not a room it's a loft I think but I know I'm pushing it. "Tell me why you can't just spend time with us by yourself and see her when we're not here." I'm whining. "Go to your room!" he barks at me. "Why? I just asked you a question." I know I am right. "Because I said so" "Because is not an answer" I tell him, he says that to me all the time. "Now!" I stomp up the stairs. I look down to them eating breakfast together and my sister making them laugh. "Traitor" I say under my breath. Suddenly I can't breathe, I want to go home. I want to know what to expect, I hate it here I don't understand it. I crawl into a space in wall, a place to store cables I think. I can only fit if I curl up into a ball. I sit in there and cry and cry. I start to fall asleep and then I hear them on the other side calling for me, I find a latch on the inside and lock it. My dad tells me to come out so we can go to church. Church? What? We're Jehovah's Witnesses, what is he talking about. "NOOO" I scream He pounds on the door and screams at me to come out now. I hear his girlfriend talking and a shuffling outside of the door. I hear her outside the door. It's low to the ground and I can picture her on the other side stooped "down to my level" like a "good psychologist". "Emily I understand this is all new to you and it's probably too much to handle at once but you're really hurting your daddy's feelings." "what about mine?" "Emily it isn't nice to always think of yourself, your dad does a lot for you girls." "He's never around, only my mom is." "Well from what I understand your mom is not the best mom." Child psychologist my ass! "You shouldn't talk bad about people's parents it makes them HATE you." "Are you in the closet because that's where your mom would put you?" How could he tell her about that? That's not her business. For whatever reason I feel the need to protect my mom from this..this outsider, this intruder into our world. I get myself out. "See, there you go" SHE says. "I want to go home" "Emily your dad..." "My dad is dead" I say and this time it's true... to me.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
Daddy Issues
Time passes by and a new year comes. I don't exactly remember how we spent it but it's probably better that I don't. Jonathan and I's relationship is a roller coaster to say the least. There are the occasions of a love I never knew existed outside of movies and romance novels.. like the time we went to an Ashanti concert at the fair grounds and it got boring so he lifted me up (as if carrying me over the threshold) and screamed "This woman just agreed to marry me!" All the way to the car, stopping only to shake the hands of old men and receive pats on the back. To the lows of the lows where we fight and argue about the things he has to do to "earn a name" for himself. The more he does, the quicker he moves up in "rank", the heavier the load for me to carry when he goes out. He hasn't hit me since that first day, just screams and pushes and breaks things around me. It isn't enough to make me leave, but then again I don't think anything would have been because one outburst meant 2 weeks of pristine behavior and "making it up to me". One night in hell meant two weeks in sheer bliss and that was a price I was willing to pay for love of this magnitude. The only thing wedging itself between us, aside from his gang, was my childhood. Those memories lurking in the dark crevices of my mind, throwing me back into my past and stealing moments of my present.
He's getting ready to leave to go on a mission. A big one, one that I can't even know about for the risk of me being questioned. Someone stole their meth and guns out of a safe, someone within their circle...that is all I've been able to piece together on my own. He walks over to give me a kiss on the cheek and I turn away.. "Just go, just leave." "Why do you do this every time Emily? Do you know the guilt I feel walking out that door knowing it may be the last time you see me and I didn't even kiss you goodbye? It trips me up, throws me off my game, I could get killed like that." I feel that wall going up.. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care I chant in my head. I sit there staring blankly at him. "Fine I'm not going, is that what you want?" He throws down his things. I stare at him, deliberately erasing all emotion from my face. But in my mind...in my mind I'm telling him what's wrong. "I'm scared" I say in my head. "I'm scared that this goodbye might be my last. I'm scared I'm loving someone who is only going to abandon me." In my head the conversation goes like this "But I'm not leaving you babe" "But it feels like you are, it feels like you are choosing a different life than one with me in it. I feel like I should stop caring before it's too late."
I am about 6 and me and my little sister are staring out the window. In my memory it is raining but I'm pretty sure I was just crying. We have been sitting here for quite some time. Before the sun went down. Waiting..waiting for him to come like he promised. My dad. It's been awhile since he's shown up for visits and when he does he hands us a new toy and leaves again. But we wait anyway. My sister can't be much older than 2. She starts to cry for my dad. I hate him. I hate him for leaving me here to take care of a baby. I hate having ice cream for breakfast, spam for lunch and shake and bake for dinner everyday. I hate having to take my sister to my aunt's to get her some milk. I hate that weird girl that dresses like a boy who is always in my mom's room as they pretend that I don't understand what's going on. I hate that she let's her friends hit me too. I hate him for not saving us, for only saving himself. I wipe the tears from my eyes. "Stop crying Nikki! He's not coming, he's NEVER coming! He doesn't want you! He never loved you! He chose a different life!" I scream in her face. Telling her what my mom tells me when I ask about my dad. I feel bad for it. "Just pretend you don't have a dad sissy" I say to her nicely. That's so hard to do. Our dad was our world, he was the object of my mom's hatred when he got home, instead of us. He was also our distraction. No matter what he was always happy. And now he was gone and we were the ones that paid, but did he care? No. "I don't have a dad" I told myself. In fact that was the answer I gave for years after.."my dad is dead" because it was better. It was better than admitting to myself that he chose a different life without me in it. It was just easier not to care at all than to face the idea that I just wasn't it worth it.
I am on Jonathan's bed again. He is just laying there staring at me . "I would love to see where you go when you disappear like that. What movie plays inside your head, like you said." He says "You remind me of my dad" is all I say. "But you don't like your dad" he says, clearly waiting for an explanation. "I know" I shrug it off and sit up. He doesn't move, he looks sad. "what's wrong?" I ask. "I wish you'd let me in, I wish could see the things that hurt you so bad." "You'd think they were stupid" He doesn't deny it. "It just scares me sometimes, sometimes I think you're not coming back." And leave you before you leave me, I think to myself.
"Don't you need to leave?" I ask "No, I'll just get checked tomorrow but I'm ******'s favorite so he'll choose people that can't fight" He falls asleep and I lay there thinking. There's that feeling again. I should be feeling proud, wanted, his choice. Instead I give into that nagging that this isn't my forever as much as I try to force it. The window is open and it's a full moon. I try and memorize the room, the layout, the posters, his face as he sleeps, the way he wraps one arm around my waist and keeps the other tucked under my head. I know one day these will be all I have of him, memories. I hold him tighter and fall asleep. He's gone in the morning.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
He's getting ready to leave to go on a mission. A big one, one that I can't even know about for the risk of me being questioned. Someone stole their meth and guns out of a safe, someone within their circle...that is all I've been able to piece together on my own. He walks over to give me a kiss on the cheek and I turn away.. "Just go, just leave." "Why do you do this every time Emily? Do you know the guilt I feel walking out that door knowing it may be the last time you see me and I didn't even kiss you goodbye? It trips me up, throws me off my game, I could get killed like that." I feel that wall going up.. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care I chant in my head. I sit there staring blankly at him. "Fine I'm not going, is that what you want?" He throws down his things. I stare at him, deliberately erasing all emotion from my face. But in my mind...in my mind I'm telling him what's wrong. "I'm scared" I say in my head. "I'm scared that this goodbye might be my last. I'm scared I'm loving someone who is only going to abandon me." In my head the conversation goes like this "But I'm not leaving you babe" "But it feels like you are, it feels like you are choosing a different life than one with me in it. I feel like I should stop caring before it's too late."
I am about 6 and me and my little sister are staring out the window. In my memory it is raining but I'm pretty sure I was just crying. We have been sitting here for quite some time. Before the sun went down. Waiting..waiting for him to come like he promised. My dad. It's been awhile since he's shown up for visits and when he does he hands us a new toy and leaves again. But we wait anyway. My sister can't be much older than 2. She starts to cry for my dad. I hate him. I hate him for leaving me here to take care of a baby. I hate having ice cream for breakfast, spam for lunch and shake and bake for dinner everyday. I hate having to take my sister to my aunt's to get her some milk. I hate that weird girl that dresses like a boy who is always in my mom's room as they pretend that I don't understand what's going on. I hate that she let's her friends hit me too. I hate him for not saving us, for only saving himself. I wipe the tears from my eyes. "Stop crying Nikki! He's not coming, he's NEVER coming! He doesn't want you! He never loved you! He chose a different life!" I scream in her face. Telling her what my mom tells me when I ask about my dad. I feel bad for it. "Just pretend you don't have a dad sissy" I say to her nicely. That's so hard to do. Our dad was our world, he was the object of my mom's hatred when he got home, instead of us. He was also our distraction. No matter what he was always happy. And now he was gone and we were the ones that paid, but did he care? No. "I don't have a dad" I told myself. In fact that was the answer I gave for years after.."my dad is dead" because it was better. It was better than admitting to myself that he chose a different life without me in it. It was just easier not to care at all than to face the idea that I just wasn't it worth it.
I am on Jonathan's bed again. He is just laying there staring at me . "I would love to see where you go when you disappear like that. What movie plays inside your head, like you said." He says "You remind me of my dad" is all I say. "But you don't like your dad" he says, clearly waiting for an explanation. "I know" I shrug it off and sit up. He doesn't move, he looks sad. "what's wrong?" I ask. "I wish you'd let me in, I wish could see the things that hurt you so bad." "You'd think they were stupid" He doesn't deny it. "It just scares me sometimes, sometimes I think you're not coming back." And leave you before you leave me, I think to myself.
"Don't you need to leave?" I ask "No, I'll just get checked tomorrow but I'm ******'s favorite so he'll choose people that can't fight" He falls asleep and I lay there thinking. There's that feeling again. I should be feeling proud, wanted, his choice. Instead I give into that nagging that this isn't my forever as much as I try to force it. The window is open and it's a full moon. I try and memorize the room, the layout, the posters, his face as he sleeps, the way he wraps one arm around my waist and keeps the other tucked under my head. I know one day these will be all I have of him, memories. I hold him tighter and fall asleep. He's gone in the morning.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
**Reoccurring Characters**
Let it go
Let it be
I no longer want the "love"
you say is meant for me
What we had
Never was
You say it ended
ALL because of me
You say it'll take forever for me
to name the stars
and that's just what I'm hoping for
A forever without you
Because you're untrue
and you're a fake
You seem to think
my heart is still your to take
But you are wrong
Oh so wrong
because your time has come and gone
No more chances
No last time
Your heart was never mine
it wasn't even whole
and every mask you wore
had a thousand holes
and I could see into the core
of the person you truly were
So let me tell you now
he isn't my type at all
This is the last chapter
of the book I should've NEVER
tried to rewrite
and though you say
you're not giving up without a fight
I know the ending I'm writing
and you'll understand it all
when the ink dries...
THE END
I wish that were true. I wish chapters in my life belonged to a book I could close and leave up on a shelf. But just when I think I've successfully written you out of the script, there you are with some stupid plot twist that is trying to teach me a lesson I was convinced I had previously mastered. How I wish I understood what you gained every time you watch me break. What keeps you so enticed that you keep coming back for more? You're more than a skeleton in my closet you're a ghost I wish would just effing die already!!! Or at least go find some other poor soul to haunt....
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