Inner Working Two: Hatred

Sorry, I'll just have to come back to this when I calm down.

“I hate him. I hate him with every fiber of my being. I wish he’d just die.”

That’s what I’d like to say, but in truth I think I’ve reach a point of uncaring. I held so much hatred and disdain for him that I couldn’t even look at him without it showing on my face. I’ve lived with this hatred and anger for so long it has distorted my perception of what a father, no what a man is. I’ve met a great deal of men in my life, but the biggest impression I have is the one my father has seared into me.

“Men can’t be trusted. All they’ll do is act until your under their finger, then they use you until they break you, and throw you out like you’re trash.”

That’s what my father did, and continues to do to my mother, myself, my elder sister, little sister, and little brothers. He tortures us, knowing full well we have no way of escaping him. So here we are...suffering...enduring...broken.

It hurts. I wish more times than I’d like to that I could just drop dead. I wish I could disappear with my mom, sisters, and brothers. I wish we could escape. But we can’t. We’re caged birds without a voice to sing out our pain and frustration.

Why won’t someone help us? Why can’t anyone see beyond this charade? Why do people blatantly ignore our suffering? Why...Why?

I’ve cried, prayed, sought out any outlet to try and ease my suffering, but it isn’t working. I think I’ve reached my breaking point. Anyone that knows me knows I’ve taken quite a few ‘breaks’ where I disappear, then reappear like nothing happened. Yeah, I hate to admit it, but those were times I felt I was so close to ending my life I needed to shut down. So I shut everyone out.

Ahh man I’m crying now. Dang, I was trying to get through this without crying.

I’ll come back later.

See ya,

           Ren Nightshade

Author's Note

Sorry... Sorry.