Dejection

This story is about a kid who had run away from her abusive mothers house and it did't seem to get better.

(Disclaimer this story is not meant to be realistic it's just a project I made from movie tv and book inspiration with a little creativity mixed in)

Dejection sometimes I can’t push it away no matter how many meds I talk or how deep I cut, it never goes away. D****t!

 WHY CAN'T I JUST END IT.

Why do I feel so cold and why did I run? That place was hell anyway I can’t ever go back to you, mom. But sometimes at night, I can hear your soft voice telling me.

Come home Kennedy Mommas here no need to cry.

Yet as soon as I close my eyes I can see and hear and feel the leather of the belt against my skin, the eardrum-shattering yells, and screams, arguing, I can’t ever escape it. My new life is hell but when I was with you it was as if I was sitting next to Lucifer. It seemed as if the shards of emotional and physical abuse are still sunken into my skin after rapidly pulling and tugging and ripping; they never seemed to come out. They only carved deeper into what I call a state of my psychological well-being.

I see nothing over people’s faces. I must keep my head down, don't look up, don't talk, you won’t be talked to if you follow those rules but in this city it's hard I can’t ever seem to catch a break. People are always looking for prey to attack as if their animals, that's what they are sick animals.

I’ve seen so many doctors and therapists, witch doctors crisis hotlines, but in short, they all come up with the same answer,

 “let's give this a try”. Or

 “This might work”.

I’ve heard it all before, nothing ever helps and nothing ever will. Sometimes I imagine having a normal family that loves and cares for me, but I think that privilege has been stripped away from me, doesn’t matter it's not like I will live past eighteen. I should live for the time being just in case fortune is on my side.

Ahh Great Salt Lake City, the city of happiness… Yeah right more like the city of poverty, just in case you don't know I live in a box on 65 St, but this is still way better than living with my mom but I can’t help but think of what she is doing, probably drinking her problems away just like always. The craziest thing happened today. A nice guy gave me a twenty-dollar bill, but then a group of teens jumped me in an alley again and took all of my money, I need to start avoiding that alley more.

That means I don't eat tonight, this reminds me of my mom’s house, she would starve me for weeks just to see the outline of my ribs and beat me for the foulness of my body. But there was a time when my mom treated me like she loved me.

I was thirteen and after getting slashed by an electrical cord until the imprints and the pure bloodiness of my back were repulsive my mother had retreated into a hell I call my house, I just started running not aware of where I was going but knowing I was free for at least the time being.

I rushed up to a nice-looking woman in a yellow and black sunflower dress. The pure warmth of this woman’s heart radiated from her, a small glimmer of hope had rushed through my body, which soon faded, I asked the woman for her phone and she obliged. She had seen the fear in my eyes as she handed me her phone, quickly I grabbed it and dialed 911.

I screamed into the phone “HELP HELP YOU HAVE TO HELP ME”. at which point the operator tried to calm me down but to no avail. Eventually, police arrived at my mother's house guns pointed at the front door, “COME OUT WITH YOUR HAND UP” one policeman yelled, my mom frantically came out hands in the air, looking as if she had seen a ghost.

Somehow she pinned all the slashes and marks on our neighbors screaming and yelling how “YOU HURT HER MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER YOU SCUM”. Yet the only scum there was her.

Then the investigation started. Child Protective Services agents were swarming into the house questioning my mom and me, but we got nowhere, but in that small amount of time it felt like my mom loved me.

But as if it was a good dream it was over too fast, after the investigation closed we were right back on the same cycle except worse. My mom would lock me in a room with bleach and Pneumonia and wait until I was lashing and screaming out in pain to let me out.

Every day got worse and worse wondering if I will live to wake another day…

God did I hate that woman I'm glad that I’m gone but I don't fit in with this crowd. I cant so today is my final day.

I’ve thought about this day a lot, I’m not afraid of death. I mean the dying part might suck if I’m in pain but it's better than living like I am now. Sometimes it's better to let go than to live a bad life right?

I mean this was inevitable from the start I knew it would happen eventually and today is the day it's going to happen and I’m ready I am, so as I’m staring down at the water from a cable bridge I will think to myself 

“you are ready you are free time to let go”. And from the tears that sprout from a new life another withers away.

“Wow, the waters nice it's suffocating aroma of life flourishing in the dark abyss of which we call life,” this is not a sad day this is a happy day for I am bringing a new better life for those who do not see me no one will miss me I regret a lot but that's ok this is scary but not in a bad way, “you are ready you are free time to go”. 

Author's Note

Be harsh I need to learn.