dear whoever reads this first:

A short story inspired by "The Day I Killed Myself", by Call me sick, Boy.

 

dear whoever reads this first:

 

i came home today to nothing but chaos. 

the house was empty, but even that is chaotic around here. 

where was everyone? 

 

i looked for a note though. there was none. 

i hadn’t mattered before, so why would i matter now? 

 

i would have liked to come home to the noisy, distracting kind of chaos, the chaos brought about by my family; my sister, even though she ignored my very presence. to hear her on the phone would have comforted me. my mom, even though she yells all the time, b*****s and moans; I needed her right now. i needed her today. my dad wasn’t here. i suppose i could have called, but he would hardly ever answer the phone, either. we always needed money and he never had it to give, so he avoided us like the plague. he’s a lame.

 

still, even he would have been nice to talk to. 

 

i had the worst day at school today. “kids can be so cruel.” mom had warned me in one of her nicer moments. i rolled my eyes when she said it, but now, it was all I could think about. all I could hear.

 

kids can be so cruel.

 

i remember the first time a girl told me I was ugly. i came home crying. 

“what’s wrong, what’s wrong?” mom asked, panicked. “was something broken, something hurting, what?”

“she-she-she told me I was ugly!” i cried to her and flung myself into her. i needed comfort, and she is my mom, right? mom’s body got stiff and she pulled me away by my shoulders. so i could look at her, and hear what she had to say. she reached back and WHAM! she slapped me. why had she slapped me? was it because I was in hysterics? 

“don’t you ever cry about that sort of thing.” she said.  she was almost cold. But then again, when was she ever really warm?

 

kids can be so cruel, right?  what about adults?

 

            “don’t worry about it.” my older sister said of the comment. she touched my face {and she never touched me!} and when she did, i looked at hers. i mean, if she could be that pretty, and i was her sister, i couldn’t possibly be ugly, right?  even though she was at a different school, she came to my school the next day. she beat her up, the girl who called me ugly. i heard about it, but she never told me, never mentioned it. i never thanked her.

             

            mom’s boyfriend always ‘happened’ to open my door when i had just come in my room from the shower. he did it so often, and mom didn’t allow locked doors in her house.

even though my sister bitched about it, i got dressed in the bathroom. clearly i wasn’t ugly to him. i never sleep because mom doesn’t allow locked doors in her house. what if he ever got tired of looking and wanted to do more? i couldn’t be asleep and know that he may be lurking. he came over every night and every night he looked at me when he opened my door by 'mistake'.  i couldn't risk sleeping.  so i lay awake, every night, never sleeping.

 

            didn’t tell mom though. i remember that slap like it was yesterday.

                        don’t you ever cry about that sort of thing.

            i hadn’t wanted to waste my breath. 

            i called my dad to tell him, but dad never answered.

            i wanted to tell my big sister but the boyfriend was way bigger than her. she couldn’t beat him up like she beat up that girl. 

i wondered if the boyfriend did the same thing to her.

 

          adults are cruel too.

 

kelsey: if you read this first, thank you. we never talk because you’re too busy on the phone but i always did look up to you, even if you were a b***h. like, you made my life better. after you came to my school, no one ever said i was ugly again. 

 

mom: if it’s you, i never understood why you slapped me. i guess I never will. i hope you are nicer to kelsey. even though she isn’t the nicest person, she’s still your kid. 

 

i know we all never say it, but I’ll say it. i love you. i’m sorry. i just never sleep. i’m so tired of never sleeping. i know i’ll probably take too many pills. but never ending sleep is all i dream of. 

 

and if i wake up, I know I’ll never sleep again. 

Author's Note

I haven't a clue where this came from... just something I felt inspired to write that's really off the beaten path for me. Hope you enjoy it.

Reviews

[Charles D. Moorer]

This is a very evocative piece. It forces the reader to remember the vulnerabilities and fringt they encountered, endured, and survived. I had one or two of those bewildering slaps. I don't think I every forgave my mother, though I am sure she had her reasons. I have forgotten the incident but not the slap... Your piece brought me home to a place when I was scared and needed comforting and didn't get it. My older sisters filled in and provided the protection I needed. Thank you.

[Dwayne J. Keeves]

Sounds every bit of the definition of life in a round about way.

[D1218]

I loved the ending, although I didn't completely get the beginning (chaos in an empty house) Guess that one went over my head
In all it was very nice

[terisa]

my mum never allows locked doors too, she doesnt allow me to use my laptop for more that an hour so I use it in the middle of the night. I love the story ........so close to my life........

[She stole my sunshine]

Wow. You seem so vulnerable, so weak. I like it... this has me praying for you in my head to be stronger and hold on.

[Jaeda]

That was so sad. It was perfect for my contest, and I will consider it carefully. Thank you for submitting to my contest, and have a good week.

[DC Gentleman]

This was intense.. heartbreaking even, and there is a certain poetic quality that captured me and pulled me to the end. I love this, I love the reality of it. The words spoken and unspoken and the broken people who are tryin to deal with it all..

Simply excellent..

[Nicole Archer]

Wow, i Love this, Really powerful with a blend of strong emotions.
"mom's boyfriend always 'happened' to open my door when i had just come in my room from the shower. he did it so often, and mom didn't allow locked doors in her house.even though my sister bitched about it, i got dressed in the bathroom. clearly i wasn't ugly to him. i never sleep because mom doesn't allow locked doors in her house. what if ever got tired of looking and wanted to do more? i couldn't be asleep and know that he may be lurking. he came every night and i lay awake, every night."
That hit me hard, because this is what I went through when i was younger.
and its exactly how i would have put it.
Well done, and great write, I look forward to reading more of your work.