The Story
This story is untitled...if you have any idea for a title, tell me in the guestbook. 'tis a work in progress. enjoy!
HOMESTEAD WAR
my broken home
is in an eternal civil war
between my mother and me.
she penetrates
manipulates
and dilates
my feelings until they swell
so big i can't see my
inner eye.
you are evil
i wish you weren't my child
i never wanted you anyway
you are ugly and stupid
i can't stand her
desperate screams
anymore.
enough of her highly gaurded
guilt
could kill me.
she brandished her angry knife
at my face
and said that i should die.
i wish she would have done it.
then i wouldn't have to myself.
she only wanted
one child. but
instead she borne two
daughters,
one the princess,
the other
the pauper.
i am the unwanted
evil one
that stands in her
intimidating shadow.
you can't kill yourself by overdosing on aspirin. You just puke it all up anyway. slitting your wrists doesn't work either. that is, if you don't do it the right way.
most people do it across their wrists with a puny little razor blade in a fit of anger. feebs. they don't really want to die. you have to do it the long way, down your arm, slicing open the whole vein.
i tried both.
after chugging a bottle of aspirin, i took one of my mom's new sharp kitchen knives, and tore it down my entire arm.
now, i didn't do it like those feebs do, when everyone is home and with their bedroom door open. i waited until my mom and my sister went shopping. and they still found me.
***
2/28/01
Dear Patrick,
See, the trouble is, that there is a trouble. I don't know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. so I'm going to say this, or write this, rather. I am in love with you. You make me feel like a woman. I love love love love you. This is so juvenile. but I just had to say something, or I'd never forgive myself.
Love,
Sarah*
***
are you suicidal?
yes.
are you haveing homocidal thoughts right now?
no.
are you sexually active?
i looked away from the nurse. my head was searing with pain at the memory. he was older. stronger. bigger. it was like i re-felt all the pounding hits on my mouth when i screamed no.
edita, answer me. are you sexually active?
he looked at me. i knew he was sincere. i shook my head.
he asked a lot more questions. i just answered them blindly, not thinking much, just talking. i could still feel the stinging hit of the memory.
the nurse took me into a room. inside was a bed, a table, and a chair. the walls were as blank and dull as my glazed eyes. he shook my hand. welcome to the psychiatric adolescent unit. this is your room.
***
Farewell
goodbye
cruel, angry world
i should have left you long ago
in my dark raging corner
where did all my angels go
as i tear my nails through my
flesh
where is my place in heaven
gone
in the darkness
goodbye
cruel angry world
i should have left you long ago.
***
3/1/01
Dear Sarah,
Why do you love me? I am nothing but a speck of sand in this abyss. I am a perilous soul, who wants to die with the glorious angel of death and leave this place. How can you love me?
Sincerely,
Patrick
***
(phonecall to edita from her mother)
3/1/01
3:30PM
edita: hello?
mother: your father said i should call you.
edita: oh, hi mom.
mother: you little shit. your father brought you there without asking me. do you really want to be the second kid he has to truck over to the psych ward? what are you doing this to him?
edita: doing what to him?
mother: you know exactly what i'm talking about. ugh, edita, you are such a faker. all you want is attention. there's nothing wrong with you.
edita: then why am i still here, huh? why the FUCK am i here?
mother: don't you get that tone of voice with me, you little bitch!
edita: up your ass. *hangs up*
***
i went back in my room, and sat at the desk. my eyes were dry. i never cry.
slowly i raised my arm, and slammed my wrist on the edge of the table. i did it again. and again. and again. after about twenty minutes of doing so, i looked at my wrist. it was black.
knock knock. checks! edita, are you all right?
slam.
edita?
bang.
jackie came in. i loathed her. she was a prissy bitch who always wore dogshit yellow shirts and brown lipstick. and she needed someone to force feed her. she was skinnier than my pinkie.
edita stop it. stop hurting yourself!
but i didn't stop. i put all my force into another blow.
jackie went out and got another nurse, the same guy who checked me in. they picked me up out of the chair and held me.
no. where the fuck are you taking me?put...me...down!
they dumped me on a cot in a plain white room, and put me in restraints. they were silent and quick in their work. they wouldn't even look at me. jackie walked out over to her desk where she could watch me.
there was nothing in the room, except for me, the bed, and a video camera staring at me with its single, empty eye.
the white walls hurt my eyes. suddenly my mind filled the walls with the face of trent. trent. beautiful boy. or so i had thought.
the rapist.
i screamed. why can't he just go away? why can't i have some peace in my own mind?
he grinned at me from the ceiling. i was standing next to him. i watched myself like a movie. only i couldn't turn it off or look away. we were alone in a room rogether. he kissed me. i felt so special. i was so happy that a boy, who was three years older than me, 16 to be exact, was interested in me.
shall we take off our clothes, he asked?
i shook my head no.
he shrugged. suit yourself.
then he took off all his clothes and stood before me. i had never seen a naked man before. he threw me on the bed, kissing me so hard that i could feel my mouth bruise.
trent, what are you doing?! he ripped off my blouse, not answering me. trent, no! i tried to turn my head, to not look at the memory movie being played on the walls. but evcen when i closed my eyes, the images burned on my eyelids.
i struggled to get up, but he pushed me back down and kissed me again. . trent, i tried to say. this isn't fun anymore. please stop. stop it now! he acted like he didn't hear me. i gathered all of my strength and shoved him off. he rolled over, and i sprung off of the bed, running for the door. he grabbed my wrist and punched me in the jaw. i tried to get out of his grip, but he grabbed something off of the coffee table. a knife. he twisted me arm behind my back and held it up to my neck. go back on the bed, bitch, he said. i became totally compliant. he grabbed my breast and dug his nails into the soft flesh. i screamed, tears rolling down my cheeks. stop stop stop, oh goddess, please save me, make him stop.
he yanked my skirt off, and i kicked him. he punched me in the face again. i could feel my eye swell, and blood drip down my face. stand up, he commanded. stand up! slowly, i rose, trying to cover my nakedness with my hands, shaking. he grabbed both of my arms, and tied me to a pipe on the wall. i sobbed, please trent, don't.
he spat in my face and forced my legs apart. i tried to flail and kick him, but to no avail. he pierced me through, so fast and hard that i felt as i would split in two. i screamed in pain and agony, but nobody heard.
i stared at the ceiling, my eyes wide with terror. he haunted me. no matter where i went, he followed me. slowly, i sobbed myself to sleep on the hard bed, the cyclopse camera watching me.
***
3/4/01
Dear Patrick,
Why do I love you? You are smart, sweet, beautiful...you're the most interesting person I know. You're strong, yet somewhat sincere. I feel like I can grow old with you. I hope I can see you when you get out of that horrid place.
Love,
Sarah*
***
Curse the Sun
sorrow pulsing through me
i've given up my dreams
for tomorrow
before the sun rises
today
i just write
all the same sad bastard shit
and hope that you might
understand
but it sounds all the same
and i've got nothing
so i've given up my dreams
for tomorrow
before the sun rises
today.
***
what is sonething that the earth ahs taught you, edita? jerry, the art therapist, looked at me. show us your picture.
i help up my piece of minilla paper to cover my face. it was still red and blotchy from my "nap" in the quiet room. on the paper i drew a black sun, and a girl crying. jerry frowned. what did you learn?
i sighed. i learned that no matter how much you don't want it to, the sun still rises every day. jerry looked at me with his old, blue eyes. they were windows to his soul. he was a sweet old man, who smelled like a summer day and cookies mixed together.
the boy next to me looked at me and smiled. he leaned over and whispered in my ear.
hi. i'm patrick.
i turned away from him.
i really like your drawing.
i picked up a marker and started to draw. good for you, i replied. his voice was low, and crackled like an old gramaphone. sorry to bother you.
i looked at him. he was tall, with a black buzz cut. his hairline curved in two drastic angles, almost lookig like horns. his eyes were dark and hollow. i shrugged and looked away. after all...he was male, just like trent.
***
3/5/01
Sarah-
Don't you think you're awfully young for me? You are still sok innocent. There is so much you don't know, especially about love. I don't want to hurt you. after all, you are four years younger than me. I am 18, you are 14. I would feel guilty.
-Patrick
***
MOTHER'S EXPECTATIONS
she wants me to be
sugar and spice
and everything nice
when all i have
are my snails
and whales
and puppydog tails
she wants me to be
her monkey
her feak
to put on display
when all i am
and all i have
are my words and my notes
and my fears
she wants me to be
her little puppet
to manipulate
my every move
but now
all i can do
is cut off the strings
when all i have
are my words
and my notes
***
i walked into the dayroom, everyone watching the tv with their zombie eyes. it was like they had no other life than that damn thing. i decided that the show wasn't worth it and sat at the table. there was a paper. CHILD SUICIDE screamed across the front page in giant letters.
a girl of thirteen, sarah goodman took her father's gun and shot herself. she left a letter that said:
mom and dad, this wasn't your fault. niether your's my dear sister. it's just that i can't live without love. without my love...
i threw the paper down. it wasn't worth reading. it was so stupid. everything was so stupid. a girl kills herself, for what? a stupid little boy that turned her down. so what? this was bs.
but is it any more stupid than your reason for trying to kill yourself, a voice inside my head said. i pushed it back as far as i could. i didn't want to think about it. not here, not now. but where else will you think about it? i put my head down on the table. i was thinking too much. that was NOT a good thing.
okay, everyone, chris, one of the councilors said. we got us a newbie.
a moonfaced girl stood behind him, peeking out at everyone. her name is angel. i want you all to be real nice to her, mkay?
***
<>
<<3/2/01>>
<<2:30 pm>>
edita:hello?
father: hey honey.
edita: hi! are you going to come visit me today?
father: sure.
edita: you promise?
father: hey, i said i would come--
edita: but do you promise?
father: yeah. sure. listen, i gotta go. love you honey. <>
***
hi, angel said as she poked her face into my room. they said i was going to stay in here...
oh, yeah, i said, not looking up from my writing pad. come on in. welcome to the fucking psych ward.
she laughed. gee, you're going to get out of here soon. she plopped down on the bed next to me. she seemed pretty okay to me.
why are you here, anyway?
angel shrugged. i cut myself.
i hadn't realized it before, but now that i looked harder, i could see small cuts on her wrists and the inner side of her arm. i remember when i used to do that shit. driving the knife deeper and deeper, just to see that place inside me that i was blind to, that bloody world that was only mine. that's when i had to go to the hospital the first time.
then she looked at me, in the eyes, like she could see that world too. then i got that feeling that i had only read about in books and heard from my friends (who hadn't really had the feeling, anyway). it started in my groin, rising like a bubble into my stomach, filling up my chest, and finally bursting with a loud *pop* in my head. i ran into the bathroom (no lock, of course) and stared at my white, shaking face. what was this all about, anyway? she was a GIRL. could i be...?
no, i thought, as i patted my face with a shaking hand. of course not. i can't be...
***
a loud thump woke me up in the next room. i looked at the clock on the wall. six o'clock. they were probably moving in someone new. i was about to go back to sleep when i heard a familiar voice. i bolted up and peeked through a crack in the door. and there he was. he saw me through the small opening and threw me a crooked smile. my door slammed with a loud bang, and i kicked the trashcan over. i kicked it until my foot hurt, grunting and crying. i threw it at the wall, where i knew he could hear it in the next room. as i was sinking to the floor, sobbing, angel sat up in her bed, her eyes wide in surprise.
are you all right?
my body shook, and suddenly i felt very cold. i looked down, and my arms were wrapped around me, hugging myself like a baby. it's him, i gasped. it's him. trent.
TO BE CONTINUED...