Nothing

WARNING: Inherently depressing post. If you're in a quasi good mood, don't read it. I don't want to rain on you're parade. Truly though, you don't have to read this.

IF

If you held me at  gunpoint; I wouldn’t shake

I wouldn’t revel at your feet in fear

And tell you what you want to hear

If you pinned me beneath you; I wouldn’t quiver

I wouldn’t give in to the pain

Or tell you what you want to hear

If you whispered in my ear I wouldn’t blush

I wouldn’t let your words work through my mind

Or tell you what you want to hear

If you gave me all you had; It wouldn’t matter

I wouldn’t listen to the love you claim

And tell you what you want to hear

If you faced me with the choice of love or death

I wouldn’t gasp in stunned astonishment

Or tell you what you want to hear

If I ever had the choice of love or death

I wouldn’t ponder silently

A simple “death” is all you’d hear

A week and a day.

It has been a week and a day since I put a belt around my neck. A neck that is too thick with fat and muscle which shouldn’t be there. And I pulled. Pulled with arms too weak to break, or cease the breath within, my neck.

They were yelling as always. Screaming. She threatened yet again to leave us, for good. She’d said she was going to a homeless shelter. He’d said she was stupid and nuts. She’d said he was a lying greed gay. I’d been trying to sleep. Trying so desperately to pretend it was all a dream. Trying so deeply to pretend I would wake soon to my normal Saturday. She’d be at home. He’d be in bed.  I’d get ready for dance. It didn’t happen. It took them hours. They just kept yelling. I sobbed as I hadn’t in years. A wailing screeching sob attempting to drown out a sound much more painful than the tearing of my vocal chords. Anything. Anything to make it stop. I wanted to call child protective services. I wanted to be taken away. But I knew nothing would happen. It would make a bigger scene. They’d blame the other. CPS woud have done more harm than good and they would have sent us all home with a mandate for counseling I avoid like the plague. So I didn’t call.

I sat in the darkened closet. My back pressed against the door. I begged. I begged to anyone, anything that might hear me, knowing nothing would happen. I just wanted to escape. I just … remembered I was in my dad’s closet. A bounty of belts readily available. No one else could help me escape. But I could help myself.

Only I couldn’t. Now everyone wanted in. Crowding me. Surrounding me with their beckoning calls. Nothing could drown out the sound. Why couldn’t it have worked? Why can’t they all just SHUT THE FUCK UP??? (pardon my language)

Now what? What do I do? What do I say? I’ll be hospitalized. My 4.o. If I’m not at school Monday I’ll lose it. Monday after school. Just two days.

I didn’t say anything Monday after school.

Nothing Tuesday.

Nothing Wednesday.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Still nothing. Everyone is so unhappy. Everyone is so angry. No one is talking and yet they’re all talking too much. No kind words. No forgiveness. Nothing.

I’m not going to say anything. Not now. Not when I’m so close to leaving. 2 weeks. I can make it through two more weeks. Can’t I? Then I’m gone for five. Gone. If only for good. If only I could stay. Why can’t I just stay? Don’t they understand? Can’t they see? See anything? Nothing.

Maybe I’ll say something when I get back.

Or maybe not.

 Special Thanks to:

Katie Elizabeth

Emma 

Glad you both liked the new design :) If you read that whole thing,  I'm sorry :/