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the story of a 10 year old

the only words that

surfaced my brain were

“i hate you.”

as tears streamed down my face and my lip trembled,

i threw the photo frame of them on the ground and

screamed as the glass shattered.

the tears don’t stop,

i close my eyes and see myself with pigtails; full of hope, wonder, a wide-eyed smile.

i can’t wait to get home to show him my school project but,

he tells me to go away, that i am too much.

i run to her then,

she is too busy worrying, about him.

the screams, the fighting, the violence, the lack of,

many things.

is it me, 10 years old?

am i responsible?

my brother holds me as we listen to the screaming. we are safe, here.

next time he hits my brother, i call the police.

“fuck you! how could you do that to me?”

i watch as men in blue and black uniforms with shiny badges escort him away and,

she is screaming, there is a hole in the countertop now.

i hold her hand while he is gone, tears fall into my 8 year old breasts.

i saw her take all of those pills and,

she is mumbling, eyes rolling back into sockets, so

i poke her every few minutes that night to make sure.

its ok, i am 10 years old and i,

i can do this.

i wonder if there is a God in that great big universe out there.

i speak into the air and ask if Someone is listening to me as she cries into my arm.

he is still gone. he has another blond haired woman who is beautiful and watched me on friday nights.

she is there, but her mind with him. she is nothing, without him and i,

i am not enough for her

so she swallowed too many of those white tic-tacs.

 

i grab my pink butterfly backpack,

and walk into the school building.

men in black and blue uniforms with shiny badges are there,

waiting for me and,

they smile.

they have questions for me,

and i am 10 years old.

i tell them it is my fault, i shouldn’t have called the police!

i blink back my tears,

and i am 22 years old.

and i hate you, were the only words

that surfaced.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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