This is my escape. My last night alive is escaping all these memories of the past 5 years. Escape. You’re breathing hard, not knowing what was going to happen. People yelling, things getting louder and louder, with every breath you take in. You can hear your heart beat in the back of your head. Your chest feeling like it’s about to explode, and release every body part to be visible. But that’s just it. Maybe it will take my chest or body exploding just to have my mom listen to me ever since I was thirteen. She doesn’t understand that her boyfriend she brings home is fun, loving and seems real to her, but what about me?I’m afraid to sleep at my house alone. But I don’t dare bring my friends over. They don’t deserve the treatment I get. Not even the most hated person in the world deserves this. Its one of those things that I try to tell my mom, but she has never listened, all she says is “you’re being dramatic” or “he just showing he loves you”. No. she doesn’t get the picture. I try telling her everything but he threatens to come back at night and hurt me or that he will kill my mom if I tell anyone. Maybe I need this! I must need to be punished for something! Why else would this happen to me? What have I done so horribly wrong that one person deserves this treatment for five years? I guess it’s the luck of the draw. And knowing me that’s just my luck.The pain from this is unbearable and more emotional then ever. I realized it’s the fact that someone is touching you unwantedly, and prying there way into your personal space. It makes you want to destroy your body for being touched. Every single body part that has been touched by this man should be ripped off and burned. If this happened to you, you would feel disgusted with your own self for letting it keep happening. It eventually makes you almost turn yourself against you. But what am I suppose to do? As I slowly fall asleep, I’m just waiting… knowing what is going happen tonight.
Sleeping alone, in the dark, my eyes are closed. Am I really asleep? Asleep or not my ears seem to be wide awake. My body flinches with every sound I hear. There it is! The sound I dread, that makes me want to curl up in ball and just pray my mom will wake up. But he to, knows that is not going to happen. He gets her so drunk so she will pass out and won’t wake up, even with my loudest cries for help. Then the sound of footstep walking to my room, the door slowly opens, and a stream of light goes across my bed and my face, leaving the silhouette of his body. I pray every night that someone will help me. I hold my breath and don’t move, hoping it would make him think I somehow disappeared and was nothing there to touch, kiss, and call his. Its one of those things that, if you tell someone they will say I need the attention. I don’t. If anything I don’t want it all. I get enough of it from being touched, kissed, and spoken to as if I’m property to him. He walks in slowly shutting the door behind him. He lifts up the covers and slowly slides each leg in. I try to move as far away as possible, knowing that my limit was the wall, where my bed was pressed up against in the corner of my room. I lay curled up in a ball. And I am against the wall trying not to move as he slowly starts to tenderly stroke my neck, and face, and run his big boney fingers through my hair. I start to cry knowing that the nightly routine is about to come, and there is no one there to help me, and stop this unbearable pain I am about to encounter. I feel helpless. I asked him “why are you doing this to me?” I’m like a person stuck alive in a dead person’s body just limp. Screaming to come out and have someone hear me. I lay there helpless knowing there is nothing I can do. I lay there like a corpse as he did what he pleased. When he was done he threw off the covers leaving me in the wide open naked. Embarrassment and sympathy for myself is the normal. Confusion too. I always wonder if it’s a nightmare. But the morning after affects always proves I am wrong, thinking it was a nightmare.
Waking up in the morning is what I look forward to most. It’s the relief of knowing my mom is awake and home and nothing will happen during the day. But how long can I take this? I can’t anymore. Taking this for five years is enough. Nobody can understand. No matter how much I try telling her or trying explaining it, everyone I’ve told thinks I’m crazy. I’m not. If anything I’m the complete normal person taking the punishment I supposedly deserve nightly. But I’m done. I told my mom I loved her as she went to work in the morning, I gave her the biggest hug in the world and said “you need to listen to me”. She said “ok, later”. That was it. My last chance to explain my pain from her boyfriend over all these years. But now I’m done. Last night was the last night I will ever be molested. I’m going to escape from it all forever.
I went in to my mom’s room, and opened the old, wooden nightstand drawer. There I stood looking at an old handgun for a minute. I could see myself on the shiny barrel. All I did was picture myself alive and dead. It made me think if this was really the right thing to do. But I know it was my only escape out of the pain and memories of it forever. I picked it up and put the greasy barrel in my mouth, and started to think of all the nights I had been molested by that man. The pain was intolerable to think about. I stood there shaking and hesitating but I knew it was my time to escape. So there I went. I pulled the trigger. Bang!