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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1829332
It was an assignment. But I ended up liking it, so here it is.
I was here again. I always felt uneasy when I was in this room. The yellowing walls were bare. I could hear the florescent lights buzzing. God how I hated it all.

I heard the door shut. I sighed then waited for him to take his seat in the wooden mahogany desk in front of me.

“So what happened this time?” he asked with some concern. “I don't want to be here. That's what happened” I said not meeting his gaze. “What happened?” he asked again. I didn't like how persistent he was. In fact it annoyed me greatly.

“Like I said. I don't want to be here” “There's a reason for everything.” I looked at his light grey eyes. They're so friendly and inviting. They make you want to tell him everything. The others seemed cold and uncaring.

“Well?”. I sighed again and decided there was no point in not saying anything. “It was him again” I said putting emphasis on him.

“He makes me feel worthless and useless. I still have the bruises he left on me from last time. He got drunk again. I hid in my room as always. It's always the worst when he's drunk. He found me in my closet, he started yelling how it's my fault she left, how I was a mistake. An accident. He then proceeded to hit me in the face. I could taste the blood in my mouth. It's strange how I've become so accustomed to all of it. I don't want to be accustomed to it. I don't want to be afraid of my own home. I don't want to have to hide bruises. It's not the way I want to live. In fear.” I looked up to see his reaction.

Sympathy.

It was always sympathy. No matter how much he knew about my life.

At this point in time I'm pretty sure he's accustomed to all of this as well. If he had it his way he would've taken me with him long ago.

My sister is the reason I have him. I lived with her until the other one shot her. I remember it all too well. The ambulance. The police.

After that I had to live with him again. In my sister's will she put aside money for me. Some for college and some so I could continue my sessions.

“Thinking of her?” he asked causing to depart from my thought. I just nodded. He knew me too well. All of my problems and fears. He knew it.

“Would you like to continue?”. We both knew the answer to that. I didn't want too but I would.

“I tried it again. I tried overdosing but it didn't work. I tried slitting my wrists. I came close but then he called 911. His reason for doing so is so he doesn't look horrible. He wants me alive for as long as he can. He likes tormenting me and making me suffer. My pain and misery is his pleasure. If I die, he no longer gets his pleasure.”


“You just want to get out of there by any means necessary at this point don't you?” I nodded slowly. “I just want to get out. If it means suicide so be it. At least I'll see my sister again.”.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

“Next time you see me things will have changed for the better. I promise.” He smiled as he said that. The first time in three years he smiled at me. It gave me some hope.

***

I heard I knock on my front door. I was scared to answer. It might have been him. I did so anyway to see him. The good him, on my doorstep.

“You're coming to live with me now. Grab some of your things and lets go.” He said to me. “But what happens when he finds out?” I asked. “He's not coming back for a long time. I told the police everything you said to me. He's gone for now and I'm now your guardian”.

I wanted to cry. After everything I've dealt with I was going to a better home. With someone who cared.

Maybe there is hope in life. Maybe it isn't just misery and suffering.

Maybe there is hope.
© Copyright 2011 J. MacIntyre (brokenandproud at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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