My Life in the Dark

I hate to show emotion because I don’t like explaining how I feel. Crying doesn’t make me weak, but tell me how you would feel

If your mom died and your dad wasn’t in your life until she was gone

And he was a drunk and we moved around a lot.

Tell me how you would feel if you watched your parents put their hands on each other and threaten you and your siblings...

Imagine your stepmom bashing on your mother because of the jealousy in her heart. She knew that got to us so that’s why she used it against us.

How would you feel if your so called “Step Parent” called you a little bitch on the daily,

Called you other names and made you feel like you don’t belong.

Dragged your little brother down the stairs just to take him away from his family

This eight-year-old boy crying and screaming because he didn’t want to leave us, but he was stuck. Stuck with her.

You know, biology sucks because you don’t have a choice. Your family is your family no matter how much you hate it.

Tell me how would you feel if you saw your dad’s head gushing with blood?

Or not being able to get up the stairs because he was too drunk.

He loved us, I knew it. I know that he loves me. I just hated seeing it all. From fights, the fire and all kinds of verbal assault.

Imagine the situation getting so bad

You couldn’t take it anymore so you had to leave. To get away and escape. I left my brothers and sister behind because it was just too much. I love my dad, and I thought I could love his “her” too.

But she wasn’t a mother, only my dad’s failed attempt at a replacement. When my mom found someone better, the guilt he felt; I’m sure he could taste it. But I was too little to understand. I was happy with my mom and stepdad.

Arizona was home, you see, and my heart’s been broken.

Mom, why’d you have to go? I didn’t want to go back to this place.

I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, though, I didn’t know it was going to be this bad. I’m sorry, mom, I’m not blaming you, I’m just really sad.

But you, this reader, I know others have it worse. I’ve never been beaten on, just yelled at and cursed to. I don’t want sympathy, empathy, or anyone’s pity. But I saw a lot of things a child should never have to see.

I have all this anger, sadness, regret built up and I don’t know how to word it. I don’t know how to fix it, but I do know how to save it.

Bottle it up, up, up.

Until it overflows.