A mother gone

A Mother Gone                                                       
“He gave you a chance but you went and blew it didn’t you?” ”What did you expect me to do? Let him hurt me?” Dad and I had been fighting for hours. He wasn’t there, he wouldn’t understand what pain I’d been through. Why would he even try he think the sun shine out of Trent’s you-know-where and there’s nothing I can do about it. “Do you know what he did to me? Do you know?” I screamed, of cause he didn’t know and he didn’t want to know, he didn’t care. “Trent wouldn’t hurt a fly Julie, so stop lying we’re all sick of it!” There he goes again, believing someone else over his own daughter and he wonders why I hate him.” I hate you, you made her leave! 30 years of marriage and all the time you’ve been sleeping with that slut!” I yelled pointing to Miss La’Fown  “Don’t say that to me Julie and say sorry to Miss La’Fown, we remember what you did to Trent and always will. And it was your mothers choice to leave.” Yet again he refers to ‘the incident’. A year ago I stole some money (about $600) and framed Miss La’Fown’s (dad’s mistress) son Trent. The same Trent that tried to kill me, but he’s daddy’s little boy and he would never do anything wrong. He thinks it wasn’t his fault mum caught him in bed with another woman and left after mum left I had to fend for myself.

Poor little Julie… they didn’t get it, mum and I were so close then dad screwed it all up. He pushed her away and told her she wasn’t loved, that’s why she got in the car. That’s why she drove away and never came back. But I loved her and she left me. The day after the crash La’Fown moved in and that meant Trent came to. I didn’t want him in my house and my voice was not heard.

I’ve run away, I’ve run far. Dad won’t care but Trent will, he wants to see me suffer for what I did to him and he can’t find me. He was in gaol for a couple of months for my stint. I thought it was funny, Trent didn’t that’s why I’m in trouble. Trent’s still a boy of 22 years and he thinks he can control me. Dad made the same mistake and he paid for it with a broken rib, serves him right he tried to put me back on medication. No one can find me out here. I don’t need medication. Do I?  Of cause I don’t, sick people are on medication and I’m not sick. Well at least I don’t think so. Trent won’t find me he won’t be looking here. I‘m here at Mums grave telling her I’ll be there soon. They’ll never see me again. I’m here saying goodbye to the world the put me in this place. I’ll be home with mum once more. I pull the knife out and say goodbye. Trent can’t hurt me again. The knife cuts through, the blood is seeping through my shirt of crimson.
“For the last time, I say goodbye!”