Once upon a time...
My house is not a house ... It is only glass and stone. Those of others have a window, door, roof, mine is nothing like it ... But they told it's the prettiest in the county ... For me it's just a thing where everything is broken.
I'm a girl of 8 years old, I'm the best in my class. I am redhead, thin and marked. My friends ask me why I work so much and why I stay so long in school. I do not understand, my house is school. I have people who love me, I am welcomed and appreciated. Nothing like that exists at home.
As soon as I get home, all I feel is fear and hatred. My mother is there waiting for me in the lobby, where the blank is located right on the wall a leather belt. His iron buckle sparkled, I could smell the leather from where I stood, the odor smelled of pain, grief ... she helped me to grow up too fast.
When my father comes home from work, I take a broom closet room black, it saved me many times. Yet today it did not help me ... He came into fury as usual after a hard day's work. "Former officer turned politician was his job everyday, and he was my father too. Only one of them escaped him forever ... this scourge military was his shadow ... "He yelled, and he knocked my mother, a kiss of welcome. I expected, he stopped to kiss her so hard.
Suddenly, a silence ... a silence obnoxiously heavy. His steps, slowly climbed the stairs, the creaking wood folding unbearable under his weight. The wind blew against the glass frozen by the winter, whistling over the creaking only increased my fear. I wanted to put my hands over my ears when the noise stopped ... He was there ... Behind the door ...
"God, made him pass, let him pass and forget me ..." she thought to herself, but this was not the case.
"Rose, my lovely Rose ... Open the door just to say goodnight to Daddy!"
I could not answer my voice was stuck deep in my heart. Tears rolled down not only on my child's face, I can not, life does not allow it. A faint light seeped through the open door showing which left my eyes open to see that I am not a child anymore ...
"Answer Rose ..."
His voice was already beginning to rise and yet I forced myself to get up, resigned to listening to my father, too bad it was, it was my father and I had to believe in him ... I pushed the door and spent the head and half my body out of the closet.
"Good evening, dad ..."
A punch in the stomach, my kiss to me, my usual good night. Stars in my eyes, I looked at my father's floor.
"Why did you put so much time to show you? I expect a little more respect (respect, what poor word) of you! I feed you and lodge you! Do not look at me like that!"
A kick came my breath away, crackling inside, my heart was breaking again? My right knee was no longer one tomorrow ... I must tell the teacher that I fell down the stairs. True, because unfortunately pushed me. My nose was broken in my blood fall on my face I used to makeup my face, I became a clown.
"Whore's Child shit! No thanks! You're like your mother, good for nothing!"
Enraged, my broken nose might harm him. My father took care of us hit them where they could not see our wounds. What a smart man my dad ...
He continued to hit me, I swing from right to left ... until I feel nothing, finished, no more pain is felt by this little body. Any emotion emanates from me. I spent a total blank now beyond pain. I no longer heard her screams shrill ... I did not move under its pounding.
That night I died. My father had broken. I'm not in hell. Indifference has become for me a real pleasure.
"Childhood is to assume that with the Christmas tree and three snowflakes all the brutality of the land is gone."
Karole McDowell 1982-2011 - © Reproduction is prohibited without permission from the author
I'm a girl of 8 years old, I'm the best in my class. I am redhead, thin and marked. My friends ask me why I work so much and why I stay so long in school. I do not understand, my house is school. I have people who love me, I am welcomed and appreciated. Nothing like that exists at home.
As soon as I get home, all I feel is fear and hatred. My mother is there waiting for me in the lobby, where the blank is located right on the wall a leather belt. His iron buckle sparkled, I could smell the leather from where I stood, the odor smelled of pain, grief ... she helped me to grow up too fast.
When my father comes home from work, I take a broom closet room black, it saved me many times. Yet today it did not help me ... He came into fury as usual after a hard day's work. "Former officer turned politician was his job everyday, and he was my father too. Only one of them escaped him forever ... this scourge military was his shadow ... "He yelled, and he knocked my mother, a kiss of welcome. I expected, he stopped to kiss her so hard.
Suddenly, a silence ... a silence obnoxiously heavy. His steps, slowly climbed the stairs, the creaking wood folding unbearable under his weight. The wind blew against the glass frozen by the winter, whistling over the creaking only increased my fear. I wanted to put my hands over my ears when the noise stopped ... He was there ... Behind the door ...
"God, made him pass, let him pass and forget me ..." she thought to herself, but this was not the case.
"Rose, my lovely Rose ... Open the door just to say goodnight to Daddy!"
I could not answer my voice was stuck deep in my heart. Tears rolled down not only on my child's face, I can not, life does not allow it. A faint light seeped through the open door showing which left my eyes open to see that I am not a child anymore ...
"Answer Rose ..."
His voice was already beginning to rise and yet I forced myself to get up, resigned to listening to my father, too bad it was, it was my father and I had to believe in him ... I pushed the door and spent the head and half my body out of the closet.
"Good evening, dad ..."
A punch in the stomach, my kiss to me, my usual good night. Stars in my eyes, I looked at my father's floor.
"Why did you put so much time to show you? I expect a little more respect (respect, what poor word) of you! I feed you and lodge you! Do not look at me like that!"
A kick came my breath away, crackling inside, my heart was breaking again? My right knee was no longer one tomorrow ... I must tell the teacher that I fell down the stairs. True, because unfortunately pushed me. My nose was broken in my blood fall on my face I used to makeup my face, I became a clown.
"Whore's Child shit! No thanks! You're like your mother, good for nothing!"
Enraged, my broken nose might harm him. My father took care of us hit them where they could not see our wounds. What a smart man my dad ...
He continued to hit me, I swing from right to left ... until I feel nothing, finished, no more pain is felt by this little body. Any emotion emanates from me. I spent a total blank now beyond pain. I no longer heard her screams shrill ... I did not move under its pounding.
That night I died. My father had broken. I'm not in hell. Indifference has become for me a real pleasure.
"Childhood is to assume that with the Christmas tree and three snowflakes all the brutality of the land is gone."
Karole McDowell 1982-2011 - © Reproduction is prohibited without permission from the author
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