Their Stories
Author: Neeka
Disclaimer: I wish I owned em, but I don't, don't own the music either.
Catergory: Alternate Universe
Summary: An AU series dealing with mental and physical abuse of some sort. Please if your sensitive in those sort of areas, like rape, child abuse etc. don't read this.
Feedback: Please, I'll love you forever. :)
Author's Note: Music in this story is Papa Roache's Broken home.
Michael's Story - Broken Home
Part 9
"I'm an angry person, violent person. I wasn't always that way. It just kinda happened one day. My wounds, the pain I feel, it still hasn't gone away. I always have played middle ball. The one in the middle. The one stuck with no choices, but all the blame. I blame my father. It really is his fault though. He did what he did to me. He made me feel like shit. He's the one who beat me down and stuff. He deat my mother down too. Beat her like she was a punching bag."
I can't seem to fight these feelings
I'm caught in the middle of this
My wounds are not healing
I'm stuck in between my parents
"And, as everything started going down the drain, there was nothing I could do to make it better. I had no one to talk to. No one. My mom had her own troubles and my father were those troubles. They always sent me out of the room when they would fight. Well, my mother sent me out of the room. My father never seemed like he cared. Even though I knew my father beat my mother when I was sent out of the room, I wanted to stay and watch. Not in the sense of watching my mother get beaten into a bloody pulp, cause I saw the pulp afterwards, I just wanted to find out the truth and stuff."
I wish I had someone to talk to
Someone to confide in
I just want to know the truth
I just want to know the truth
"My house was a torture to try in live in sanely. I was practically ignored, not in all the reasons you think either. My mother tried to pay attention to me, but my father demanded to much of her and to me, my father just ignored me."
Broken home
All alone
"I know that if my mother could have, she would have paid attention to me, but I didn't know about my father. I tried sometimes to talk to him. I'd work up the guts to go and tell him, but by the time I had the guts, my father was already gone, I'm pretty sure he had a mistress somewhere that he had to meet. It always pissed me off to thing that's where he was going. He had a perfectly good woman at home. My mother."
I know my mother loves me
But does my father even care
If I'm sad or I'm angry
You were never ever there
When I needed you
"I really think he's an ass. And I hope to God, I don't end up the way he did. Because I'm pretty sure his father ignored him too. I think he did really. I hope though, that they both realize their mistakes, because if not, then I'm probably doomed to repeat them, or to understand them. And right now, I'm to confused to understand them. I mean I wonder, what's wrong with me that made me so worthless to him. I was a regular boy, I loved trucks and cars and loved to take things apart to see how they worked. I was a regular boy."
I hope you regret what you did
I think I know the truth
Your father did the same to you
I'm crying day and night now
What is wrong with me
"I started holding everything inside. Trying to keep a calm exterior to the world. Making life a little harder for me, but making life a little easier on my mother. I mean, I did everything for her. I would die for her. She's a great person, but I never let her know anything. I never told her how I held everything inside. It hurts though, to not let anyone in. It really, really hurts."
I cannot fight now
I feel like a weak link
Push it back inside
It feels bad to be alone
"I started crying myself to sleep at like twelve. Right after my father finally picked up and left to go and BE with his mistress. Turns out it was actually a woman I'd practically grown up around, never even suspected THAT. I started getting really derpressed, not caring about anything anymore. My mother always tried to tell me I had to get better, so I could be the good man in the family. That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid you know? I wanted to get better, I really did. Depression, it just has this hold on you, that you can't get rid of."
Crying by yourself, living in a broken home
How could I tell it so y'all could feel it
Depression strikes me hard like my old earth would tell it
To me, her son, she told me I'm the one
"I swear everyone around me was just starting to piss me off. Telling me to quit acting like such a baby and get otu fo bed, go play. My grandmother especially. She'd come to live with us, to help my mother out of her own depression. She didn't realize though, that telling me all those things weren't helping, they were just making it worse, and I could let her know that. I'd spent so much of my life holding everything inside that, I started getting angry. I finally blew up on this kid in my neighborhood, practically killed him. He was calling my mom crazy, no one does that, no one. She was like my world and something inside of me just clicked and I went beserk."
Pain bottled up about to blow like a gun
Stories that I tell are nonfiction
And you can't take it back cause it's already done
"After that I was sent to a mental ward to be evaluated. I met Maria there, I liked her. She had this spark inside her. She was ready to tackle anything. It was like she didn't care what oddball was sent her way anymore. She was so full of spunk. Now, though. Now, I realize that her facade on not caring, it's just that a facade. She holds everything inside like me. She's had a few more explosions then I have though. And, I don't know what she has to blame, but I blame my father. And the way I was raised."
Broken home
"So doc, what's his diagnosis. Is he crazy, or on his way to a recovery?"
Everyone turned to see Maria stand from her seat on the staircase and desend upon them. She smiled a small smile at Michael reassuringly.
"Well, to tell you the truth Maria, I don't think any of you are actually crazy. I think your a bunch of confused, abused, whether mentally or physically, and you just need a little reassurance, not medication."
Maria looked around at everyone and smiled a whistful smile at them.
"You hear that? Y'all will get to go free soon. You aint crazy, I was wrong, my condolences."
Kathleen looked Maria over, trying to picture her as a seven year old child or around that age.
"Maria, I've got a question for you."
"I told you, you aint hearing my story."
"I know, I just, where did you grow up Maria?"
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