Me

Loving father...

Childhood.
Beauty, innocence, dreams, love.
That's what every child should be allowed to have.
They have a right to that.
You stole mine.
Ripped it out from under me.
At such an early age you dropped me
You don't remember, why would you?
But I do.
Every day when I look into any mirror
Two little scars on my nose
The first of many
It foreshadowed what came next, as my English teacher often says.
Other children could do anything, they were free.
I wasn't. I had to always watch my tongue and my actions around you
My entire life, screaming was normal
It was always my fault, my mom's
Later, around the age of eight
Violence became the norm
Violence against my mother
Threats against me
If something made you mad? You took it out on us.
When I was twelve you'd force me to eat horrible amounts of food, making me fat
You never thought I'd be bullied about it... or did you?
At thirteen it wasn't okay to hang out with boys, but, hey, fathers, right?
Wrong.
It wasn't okay to have a black friend and it wasn't okay to stay at school any longer than I had to
You'd hurry to bring me... not home, to my prison.
That place where you're supposed to feel safe and loved
I'd hide in my room
Stay out of your way
When Alex was born, you'd make me watch after her
You pretended to be around, but punished me when she fell, saying I pushed her.
Did you get punished for dropping me?
I was supposed to be your little girl but instead I was your target.
You'd rip clothes you found unsuitable
Dictate what I do and who I see
Go through my phone even, reading all my conversations
When I was fourteen, my mom found her strength and there began the hardest part; getting rid of you
At first it was easy, I despised you
I dreamt of you dying, leaving us alone
I felt strong, independent, capable.
Nothing could stop me now.
I hadn't met depression
It hit hard.
Until fifteen and a half, it didn't leave
I'd do things
Disrespect myself.
When I was at school I did anything I could to keep away from my pain
Congratulations!
You got a certificate for 100 hours of volunteering!
... or just numbing the pain, either way
But what pain? I was far from you, right?
Wrong again.
You harassed us, stalked us.
Did I mention left us with barely any money?
Trapped me in this country, still held me prisoner
At sixteen, I don't feel so invincible anymore
I feel my old pal depression hiding out in my closet and under my bed along with its pals insecurity and paranoia
The physical marks you've left me with are nothing compared to the ones in my mind and in my heart
Finally there is enough money to live somewhat comfortably, but you still appear every week.
You've been dragging this out for four years now. When does it stop?
Dear loving father,
I see you are so keen on torturing us that you use my five year old sister to do it.
You've stolen my grandmother's health
You've stolen my mother's youth
You've stolen my childhood and proceed to steal my teenage years... the best years of my life? 
Haven't you had enough?
You have money, a girlfriend, anything you want.
Why steal my sister's childhood too?

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What hurts the most is being powerless, feeling powerless...
Because I can't seem to catch my breath.

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V.A.

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