Headstrong

This is something that I see too often to be right. (edited)

The walls surround me as I think about my mistakes. The things that got me in this situation. This situation where I see only one way out.

 

A mother. A father. No where to be found. They won't see this coming. They may see my tantrums but they do not see the reasons behind them. Behind me.. No one understands... 

 

My mother is a hard worker. Caring. Loving. Feisty. Especially when she is getting the truck drivers down the way a good show. I know she has to... do this to get us money. And food. But is it necessary for the men to have their way with me too?

 

My father is a good man. Dependable. Worthy. Powerful. Someone to look up to. He's the best person you can ever imagine. He takes care of his children and his new wife. He just... leaves me alone.... That's worthy.. and dependable... right?

 

Alone. Why is it that I get that word. Of all the words in the dictionary. That one seems to attract to me the most.

 

I get up to go find my mothers journal. The only paper in our one story, one room apartment. I grab the pen on the night stand. And start writing my note.

 

"Dear Mom,

I love you. I understand. I'll miss you.

Your Daughter."

 

I hear "Jingle Bells Rock" ring throughout the house. I think about whether or not I want to answer that phone. With a last sigh I get up and run for the wall hook up.

 

Hello is my answer to the phone.

 

Its Toni. She wants to see if I might want to come with her to the mall tomorrow. Maybe even spend the night before it's time for school again. I smile.

 

With a cheerful good-bye I hang up the phone. Instantly crying small tears. I smile again and think.....

 

That is the last time I will ever feel needed... It's an illusion. No one wants me. I put my hands against my head trying to keep it from exploding. Trying to get my thoughts together. It isn't working.. Stop... I don't want to feel this... Stop... Stop!

Sobbing, I go into my mothers desk and take out the 49-er. I go to the bathroom and lock the door. I aim it at an angle. On the left side of my neck. Under my chin. As I do this I feel calm. I feel safe.. It'll end soon. My last tear falls, smiling to myself as I paint myself in red. And the room with me.

 

Author's Note

I might have a few issues with spelling in this one. And the 49-er. Just in case you didn't catch the drift is a gun. I remember hearing that somewhere. I think its a gun..

Reviews

[Lunar Lightning]

Ok, I already yelled at you on the phone about this so you know what's what, uh huh, you better think twice missy. And you really gotta work on the whole discribing portion of your writing, not just jotting down your thoughts. And for God's sake woman use spell check >.<

Luna