This? It's just for you.

If only.

His eyes gave me the strength to go on. Watching those tears glide slowly down his face as the screams slowly echoed out of our minds. I could still feel her hand across my face and the embarrassment was slowly sneaking up on me. I didn’t want anyone to know what was happening beneath my fathers roof. But they all did. Now as I sit here typing this I wonder why no one ever said anything. I could see the look in all my teachers eyes. As I sat there with tears rolling down my eyes and that fucking hand print stuck to my face, slowly bruising. I suppose that they thought It was just a slap but If they had only lifted my shirt. Or asked me to see what was beneath those blue striped pants that I hated so much. Maybe then I could have saved him from such a horrid childhood. But I was to afraid to say anything to them. What was I supposed to do, tell these people that my step mother beats us every day just for enjoyment. Then we would only get it worse. I did what I had to do to keep us alive and it worked. No matter how dead we may be inside he is at the very least safe now. Even now while I contemplate such things as death, ignorance, life and my future, I still ask myself one question. Why didn’t I let her kill me? Then my baby brother would have never suffered through such pain and hurt. I don’t know if it was selfishness or just the fear of never seeing my mother again. But I didn’t save his childhood I failed when it comes to that. And now I’m entangled in thoughts of what may happen in my future. What if I turn out to be just some other guy whose raising three kids and hates his wife. What if I become the nothing that I’m so afraid of. What if she wins and all those things that she pressed into my head finally get to force there way out into my sight. I can’t let her win and I won’t. But there’s one thing I know and I’ll say It every day until you listen. The child protective service did let her win. We did not imagine all of these horrible things, how could I have created such lies when I was only five, how could my brother have created such lies he was only a baby. And as far as I’m concerned you can all burn in hell. You fucking ass holes. Why the fuck did you let this happen we never did anything to anyone. I begged all of you with my eyes and my tears to save us but you just left us for dead. I can’t understand how anyone could do such a thing to such innocent children. And as for you dad, you took us from our mother. You held our hands and promised us the world. Instead you walked us right into hell. While it was all happening you sat back and enjoyed you’re beer and cigarettes. I know that you’ve convinced yourself that it was all just a dream, that it never happened. But you fucking know it did. You fucking know it did. Fuck you.


From the back of his eyelids, she stares back. The short blonde hair, a few inches above her shoulders, slim body, murderous eyes. He used to know every detail from head to toe but God knows memories fade. Well, more like die, due to drugs of course. Ice, heroin, cocaine, Xanax, anything, he does them all, but she still stares back. Everyday, he's "moving on." Or at least that's what everyone says he needs to do. They say "Just forget about her, there's plenty of fish in the sea." He says, "Fuck you". Being pessimistic is always a disadvantage, not like he had any advantages in the first place. His mother's screaming now, something about the toilet. His eyes won't open nor will his mouth. His last hit of heroin shut down most of his body. Nothing works, nothing scares. If you were here you'd hear her feet slamming across the trailer house floor, you'd hear his door smash into the wall. "What the fuck is this, I thought I told you not to leave this shit in the floor. Heroin, is that what this is, you fucking piece of shit?!" You'd hear her fist beating his face, his head repeatedly hitting the floor. Bouncing.

She'd told that little bastard to clean the toilet. But of course, he's sleeping, fucking, shooting up, snorting. Anything to piss her off. The doctor says to count to ten and breath deeply. Hopefully by then all of her anger will float out. Yeah fuckin' right. "Get the fuck in here and clean this God damned toilet, NOW." One, two, three, four, five, six, she glances at the toilet. Shit and filth everywhere, all over the black stained porcelain. Her legs start moving, not hesitating, not standing, moving. Walking first through the kitchen, she grabs a wooden spoon. There'll be hell to pay. His door in her view now, she kicks it in with her right foot, it's not there. "What the fuck is this, I thought I told you not to leave this shit in the floor. "Heroin, is that what this is, you fucking piece of shit?" She drops the spoon and starts pounding at his upward face, he doesn't move, doesn't flinch. Even after his nose breaks, she keeps beating. Tearing away from her long lost dreams, her permanetly faded memories. The big ball of nothingness that consumes her every thought. Idiot is most definately the word.

Now he felt nothing. Her heavy breathing is the only realization left. The pain, the depression, the whatever, it's all gone. All destroyed. His body leaning over, his breath out of sync, his thoughts give nothing away. They only help the mystery move throughout his life. She swings again, this time connecting with his jawbone, which gives way and the pain comes back. Piercing through his whole head like a needle filled with anti-novocaine. He can't scream, he can't talk, he just moans. She says, "Oh, my God, I'm sorry, oh my God." He thinks, "Fuck you." This is what he lives for, the abuse, the drugs, the pain. What a wonderful life. He moves his head to the right, looking her straight in the face, tears pouring from his eyes, pain devouring his thoughts. Everything he'd dreamed, everything he'd lost, it left only lonliness, followed by regret, swallowed by what's left. It all meant nothing to her, she left him here all alone. With nothing to hold on to, what's the reason to live. Maybe we should forgive and forget. Well... maybe just forget.

I can feel her breath now. Gliding down my body, consuming my every thought. Just the sound of her breathing is enough to keep me alive. It makes my body tingle, just listening. My arms close around her as her body becomes my life jacket. And her skin is as soft as God’s eyes. Her body is perfect with the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. As blue as a crystal beach, almost see through. Like a tunnel that leads into her thoughts and dreams. If only she wasn't a dream.

Her hair smelled of fresh vanilla and quiet evenings in the park. And somehow I knew that I wouldn’t see her again, that tonight was my only night in heaven. Her body was shaped like a goddesses and her skin gleamed like Christmas felt in nineteen eight nine. Before santa became a lie. In her eyes I could see serenity with a hint of the ocean. Back when the sand would rest beneath my toes and my first love gave me her virginity. I really didn’t want to make love just hold her and feel her and touch her face. But we had both been drinking and it was inevitable, just like death. The drugs we had taken we’re various, coke, weed, xanex, half an x tab but everything seemed to fade right now. Like the only that made me high was her touch. I didn’t care about the drugs just her. And when she started to pull of my pants I could feel her breath run across my stomache as her head descended towards my feet. The beauty in her action made me smile unexplainably and the computer screen in this room seemed to melt away her skin. Like chocolate resting in front of a fireplace. The skeletal being within was just as beautiful as the goddess that disappeared and her tongue ran rapid around my penis. Massaging every vein at the same time, I could have come immediately but I didn’t want to. Not until I felt her. For some reason my friends had disappeared and by the end of this song I’m gonna float into fucking forever. Goodnight.

God dammit I can't stand the way my mind works. I sit down and try to write something but the shit just doesn't work and I have so much on my mind that I can't think about one thing. I just sit here and think about everything and nothing comes. I've been thinking about my life and how no matter how much we feel immortal right now, we aren't. One day we're gonna die and I won't sit her and live the mediocre life of the average american. I want to live for myself and live a life that no one could blame me for living. I want to be able to give my family anything they want simply because they have saved me from so many backroads i could have taken. Especially my mom. I know she's a little crazy but so is everyone else. God damn i don't even feel like typing this. Just fucking wait though. I'm free now, free to be me and i'm gonna figure this puzzle out.