Heaven Help Us
You Can't Get The Blood Of The Sheets
“You know you cant hide from me you stupid whore!”
“Go away! Leave me alone!” I scream through my sobs.
He was drunk, as he usually was. He had just came home from the bar and now he was looking his ‘fun’ as he called it.
“You fucking bitch! You don’t know what you’ll get if you don’t let me in! You know what you’ll fucking get. I’ll kill you, you slut!”
I heard him kick and bang at my bedroom door. I knew it was only a matter of time before he had his filthy hands all over me. I trembled in fear as he kicked down my door, he came closer and closer, the smell of the alcohol in his breath was so strong. He swung open my closet and grabbed me by the throat.
“How dare you try and hide from me!”
I cried and pulled trying to escape from his grip but he was too strong. He pinned me to the ground and tugged at my pyjama bottoms and my underwear. When I tried to get him off me he punched me. He finally over powered me and as he started having his ‘fun’ with me, I shut my eyes as tight as possible trying to block out the soaring pain that went through my whole body. I knew that pain so well. Every night he went out and got wasted out off his mind, he would come home and make me pay for his loss.
Ever since my mum passed away 6 months ago, he stopped being a dad. Every night he would go out and come home drunk and sometimes as high as a kite. He lost his job, so I didn’t get much money to live on, so I worked in the music shop in town so I could take care of myself. When he would have came home, he would have hit and kicked me. So hard that I would have been left unconscious, with massive bruises and cuts all over my body and face. I had to cover them up as best as possible so I would cover my face in pale foundation so they wouldn’t be noticeable. I always wore long sleeved jumpers to cover up my arms, but I also covered up my arms because of what I do to forget about the pain my father would put me through.
Things went on like this for a few months, but then it got worse. It was normally just beatings, but then he made up another way to cause me more misery and hurt. He would come home, make his way to my room and he would rape me.
The first time he ever did it was the worst. The sorest. The scariest. I heard him come through the front door after midnight and make his way up the stairs. I was just expecting a beating as usual, but instead when he barged in through my door, he had an eviler look in his eyes, he had other plans. He pushed me violently onto my bed, and from that second I knew what he wanted and I ran for it. I locked myself in the bathroom and curled p in the corner. I heard him walk down the stairs, but a few minutes later he came back up.
“Don’t think I don’t know where you are.”
He kicked the door several times until it caved in. he stumbled through the door and that’s when I saw the knife in his hands. He was going to kill me.
“If you don’t give me what I want, you’ll pay”
He held the knife at my throat. I shut my eyes as the tears streamed down my cheeks. He pulled of my pyjama bottoms and then he pulled down his jeans and boxers. He pushed me against the cold, tiled wall as he shoved him self into me. I screamed and cried in pain.
“Shut the fuck up you dirty bitch!” he yelled in my face.
The smell of his breath made me gag. As he shoved and pushed at me I shut my eyes, trying to block out the pain.
After what had seemed like forever, he got off me and pulled up his boxers and jeans. As he walked out the door he turned around,
“You mention this to anyone and I’ll slice every inch of your body!”
I just lay there, curled in a ball on the cold bathroom floor shaking, crying and wishing the pin would just go away. I felt so dirty and sick, I had to wash away all traces of him from my body so I turned on the shower and scrubbed my body till it was raw. I lay in my bed, not able to sleep. I couldn’t get the pain to go away so I reached for my shaver and took out the razor. I slowly pressed the razor down and across my arm. I watched as the blood slowly trickled from the wound and onto my bed sheets. I couldn’t sleep at all. All I could see in my head was the face of him. The beast that stole my innocence.
Ever since that night, he has done it ever since. The more he did, the more tiny wounds and scars appeared on my arms and wrists. The worst thing was him raping me on a school night and having to go to school the next day, feeling disgusting, dirty and used.
Funny thing is that you would think I would rather be at school so I could get away from him, but truth is, I hated school so much too. I mean yes, I like some stuff like art and music, but the rest is just like every school. I was one of the few with the same kind of style as me. I was branded a loser and a freak. I was teased about the way I look and the way I do my makeup, the fact that I am bi-sexual, and the kind of music I listen to. I have no friends. No one to take care of me or me of them, no one to love me, no one to talk to or no one to just hang out with. At break and lunch all I would do is stay inside playing the piano and singing. Or else drawing and painting. Art and music are my passion. When I would be playing or drawing, t would take me to a different place. Somewhere were I could forget everything.
“Go away! Leave me alone!” I scream through my sobs.
He was drunk, as he usually was. He had just came home from the bar and now he was looking his ‘fun’ as he called it.
“You fucking bitch! You don’t know what you’ll get if you don’t let me in! You know what you’ll fucking get. I’ll kill you, you slut!”
I heard him kick and bang at my bedroom door. I knew it was only a matter of time before he had his filthy hands all over me. I trembled in fear as he kicked down my door, he came closer and closer, the smell of the alcohol in his breath was so strong. He swung open my closet and grabbed me by the throat.
“How dare you try and hide from me!”
I cried and pulled trying to escape from his grip but he was too strong. He pinned me to the ground and tugged at my pyjama bottoms and my underwear. When I tried to get him off me he punched me. He finally over powered me and as he started having his ‘fun’ with me, I shut my eyes as tight as possible trying to block out the soaring pain that went through my whole body. I knew that pain so well. Every night he went out and got wasted out off his mind, he would come home and make me pay for his loss.
Ever since my mum passed away 6 months ago, he stopped being a dad. Every night he would go out and come home drunk and sometimes as high as a kite. He lost his job, so I didn’t get much money to live on, so I worked in the music shop in town so I could take care of myself. When he would have came home, he would have hit and kicked me. So hard that I would have been left unconscious, with massive bruises and cuts all over my body and face. I had to cover them up as best as possible so I would cover my face in pale foundation so they wouldn’t be noticeable. I always wore long sleeved jumpers to cover up my arms, but I also covered up my arms because of what I do to forget about the pain my father would put me through.
Things went on like this for a few months, but then it got worse. It was normally just beatings, but then he made up another way to cause me more misery and hurt. He would come home, make his way to my room and he would rape me.
The first time he ever did it was the worst. The sorest. The scariest. I heard him come through the front door after midnight and make his way up the stairs. I was just expecting a beating as usual, but instead when he barged in through my door, he had an eviler look in his eyes, he had other plans. He pushed me violently onto my bed, and from that second I knew what he wanted and I ran for it. I locked myself in the bathroom and curled p in the corner. I heard him walk down the stairs, but a few minutes later he came back up.
“Don’t think I don’t know where you are.”
He kicked the door several times until it caved in. he stumbled through the door and that’s when I saw the knife in his hands. He was going to kill me.
“If you don’t give me what I want, you’ll pay”
He held the knife at my throat. I shut my eyes as the tears streamed down my cheeks. He pulled of my pyjama bottoms and then he pulled down his jeans and boxers. He pushed me against the cold, tiled wall as he shoved him self into me. I screamed and cried in pain.
“Shut the fuck up you dirty bitch!” he yelled in my face.
The smell of his breath made me gag. As he shoved and pushed at me I shut my eyes, trying to block out the pain.
After what had seemed like forever, he got off me and pulled up his boxers and jeans. As he walked out the door he turned around,
“You mention this to anyone and I’ll slice every inch of your body!”
I just lay there, curled in a ball on the cold bathroom floor shaking, crying and wishing the pin would just go away. I felt so dirty and sick, I had to wash away all traces of him from my body so I turned on the shower and scrubbed my body till it was raw. I lay in my bed, not able to sleep. I couldn’t get the pain to go away so I reached for my shaver and took out the razor. I slowly pressed the razor down and across my arm. I watched as the blood slowly trickled from the wound and onto my bed sheets. I couldn’t sleep at all. All I could see in my head was the face of him. The beast that stole my innocence.
Ever since that night, he has done it ever since. The more he did, the more tiny wounds and scars appeared on my arms and wrists. The worst thing was him raping me on a school night and having to go to school the next day, feeling disgusting, dirty and used.
Funny thing is that you would think I would rather be at school so I could get away from him, but truth is, I hated school so much too. I mean yes, I like some stuff like art and music, but the rest is just like every school. I was one of the few with the same kind of style as me. I was branded a loser and a freak. I was teased about the way I look and the way I do my makeup, the fact that I am bi-sexual, and the kind of music I listen to. I have no friends. No one to take care of me or me of them, no one to love me, no one to talk to or no one to just hang out with. At break and lunch all I would do is stay inside playing the piano and singing. Or else drawing and painting. Art and music are my passion. When I would be playing or drawing, t would take me to a different place. Somewhere were I could forget everything.