Consequences

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I see my adoptive brother Micah

Glued to the screen

Of our small television.

In his old home they

locked him in a room

And gave him a TV to

shut him up.

 

'Hey, little guy,'

My father sighs.

He sounds tired.

 Micah walks in the kitchen

Grinning and

Balancing a plate on top

of his glass.

Desperate for

Positive attention,

which is something

He never used to receive..

He steps over the mound

of plastic bags on the floor

Toward the sink.

 

He might have made it,

If it weren't for a jar

of pickles that tripped him.

His plate

T

  I

    P

      S,

crashing to the floor.

 

Immediately Micah

Is on his knees

On the tiled floor,

Sobbing, begging

for mercy.

He grabs at the shards,

sharp as knives.

 

'It's okay,' I assure,

But he shakes his head,

still

                    Picking

                                                                              Up

                                       The

                                                                                                                                        Scattered

                                                                                                         Pieces.

 

I rest my hand on his back

He shrinks away,

Terrified.

A splash

Of red runs

D

      O

            W

                  N

His fingers.

 

My father reaches

Toward Micah,

Seeking to reassure.

Instead causing him to

Throw his weight

                                                                              B

                                                                     A

                                                               C

                                                         K

                                                 W

                                           A

                                       R

                                 D,

Trying to avoid

What his instincts screamed

Was a slap.

 

A perfect example,

Of one of the

Many consequences

Of hitting an innocent child.

Author's Note

Being a victim of child abuse myself, I write poems when I'm feeling down. Which I am now. I got the weird technique from Ellen Hopkins, who wrote some books in script called Crank, Burned, Impulse, Glass, Identical, Tricks, Fallout, and Perfect. I am a huge fan of them. But anyway, this is true; there are many, many consequences that face an abused child. Some of the ones I suffer from are nightmares, flinching (what Micah does,) self-consciousness and a few scars.

But I should probably tell you that this is fiction, Micah doesn't exist, and I don't have an adoptive brother. (: We need to do something about child abuse. It's ruining too many childrens' lives. I am one of the few that have been able to get past it some, but a lot of others are not so lucky; they can't. It needs to stop.
~Autumn Tolmacs, AKA FlightlessAngel97~

http://www.wattpad.com/2382373-my-poetry-collection-consequences

READ THIS and feel free to refresh the page a few times. (: It's for a contest, and the more reads I get, the higher my chances are of winning!!! Yaaaaay! Anyway, this contest is important to me, so can you please go to that site? Thanks!

Reviews

[ATG]

First off, this subject is very sad. It made me feel sad for the brother in the poem. Second, I am sorry to hear you have a personal connection with this subject. I agree with you. Child abuse does need to stop, both physical and mental.

Now, on to positive things. This poem was well written and well thought out. This poem told a story in a very simple way. It was captivating to read. I did enjoy how you played around with certain words in this poem. That was a nice touch that added a little something to the poem.

[under nashua]

Very well done! I have a foster brother from a Native American tribe in the north east and he exhibited all of this behavior when he first joined our family. Abuse of many kinds drove him to the woods as a child and he lived at a feral level for a long time. He has learned to live and love and trust again. Great representation of the impact from destructive human behavior.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Fictive or not, this is a scary piece. This is a hard dog bite in terms of prose. The concrete nature of it says so much. I was floored to put it mildly. Nice job.

[Miss Evans]

This was really good. It wasn't descriptive (as in use of adjectives/feelings words) but it was very emotional (for lack of a better term).

I have seen poems/stories that are written this way, and I really like the style. It's different, and it doesn't work with everything. You made a very successful attempt at it.

The only word choice that threw me off was saying "Backward" instead of "Backwards", after reading it over a few times I got use to it, but it still made me snag the first time around.

Really nice.

[Autumn T.]

Sad subjects are what I normally write about, which you will know more as I post more of my poetry from Wattpad onto here. (: Thank you for the nice words! (: I got that word playing stuff from Ellen Hopkins, the author of Crank, Glass, Burned, Tricks, Fallout, and Perfect. She writes her books in script. You should check them out. (: They aren't the happiest of books, but they're really moving. (: