Status: Done.
Dragon.
01.
My mom.
This place is a dungeon. It was a prison and I was its prisoner. My mind, my soul, my body was locked away inside its stone walls. No way of getting out, no way or leaving. I was stuck here. My parents didn’t approve of anything. They want to keep me tucked in this cold, sad place they call home. I don’t call it home, I call it hell. I thought home was supposed to be a place of safety, not a place of peril? Isn’t it supposed to be some place where you can run to when you're in trouble? This is the one place I don’t want to be, but the one place I can never leave. I always have to be home by a certain time; I’m never allowed to leave the house. I was stuck here because if I left I’d be ‘up to no good.’ Does she not know who I am? Can she no longer trust me? Of course, I wouldn’t trust me either. I think she loves to slowly torture me. Slowly, but steadily dissect me. I’m on her operating table and she’s ripping me apart.
She’ll start with cutting up my legs. The knife goes deeper into my right calf. She’ll take out the muscle tissue; the she’ll rip apart the rest of my body. Piece by piece, letting the pain swallow me whole. Does she not remember what it’s like to be young? Has old age absorbed her and spit out the remaining empty shell. Was it the cigarettes that basically ruined her life?
My mom is basically the reason my life is hard. How she likes to control everything I do. I sometimes think that she’s my own personal Hitler and I’m just a Jew trying to get by and live my life. I think her constant need for control has turned my life upside down. The ‘love’ I have for her died. I hate her.
I know, how could you hate your own mother, it’s impossible, she hasn’t done anything to you, she’s the best mother out there. No, she’s not. My mother is cruel and unfair. She likes things done her way. If you get in the way, you’ll be stricken by her fists. Hit, bruised, and not even a second thought. ‘Get it done, or else.’ Everyone has heard that line, no matter who you are. ‘Or else.’ Is the scary part, the threat? The part you don’t want to see happen. The part where nothing else matters until you get what you need to get done, because if you don’t something bad is most likely going to happen to you.
My mom is the predator and I’m her prey. She believes that she does everything for me, what she doesn’t realize that the ‘everything’ is nothing. She believes that she’s some super mom and that all she does is basically wonderful. What she needs to intact in this sharp reality is that, no. my mom is basically the worse mother in the world and that I curse being related to her. I know that what I just stated was mean, but honestly, I don’t care. It’s the truth and what this woman believes is different to her reality.
My mom is a compulsive smoker with no signs of quitting. She’ll be smoking until the day she dies. She smoked when I was in her womb and I think that is why I came out so deformed. No, I’m not deformed on the outside, but on the inside I don’t know who I am. I believe some of her genes rubbed off into me. I’m deathly afraid if this is the truth. I don’t want to be like my mom. I’ve told her that I’d kill myself if this happened. I never want to be like her. Not in a year, not in a million years, not even in the next life time.
The woman thinks that she works her ass off at work, but really her job is simple. A monkey could work her job. She works in a factory, easy peasy. Then, my mom comes home and sits on the couch and watches TV. Doesn’t make supper, doesn’t clean, just sits and watches her soap operas. If I ever become that lazy, oh, I hope the dear lord saves my soul. The woman can’t even take an hour out of her time to drive me somewhere, but she can sure as hell drive my brother around to see his girlfriend when I’m not even allowed to have a significant other. Honestly what’s the difference between boys and girls anyways?
‘It’s different. Your bother is more responsible.’ He’s responsible by lying to my mom, going to a party, and having to walk home in the dark. Yes, mom, he’s very responsible. They allow my brother to be alone with his girlfriend, it’s like they don’t know teenaged boy hormones. I think that they must be ready to be grandparents if they don't keep him on a short leash.
I didn’t write this for people to see, I wrote this because I was angry that nothing ever happens to me. When I get invited to ever do anything outside of school, I get rejected by my parents. I get told that I have to suffer for my lazy, no good mother. I tell my friends about her and how much she screws me over and they agree that she’s a bitch. Of course, full details never arrive to them, for they just don’t understand. Don’t realize how living with a dragon can just be so bad.
I don’t remember the last time I told her I love her, because in all truth, I don’t love her. And I don’t think I ever will. Call me mean, call me whatever you want, but at least you can’t call me a liar. Some people think that saying, ''I hate her.'' Is taking it to an extreme but I’d rather have a mother who doesn’t care then the one I have now. She thinks she can live her life through me, but she can’t. I rebel all the time and she knows how I feel about her. She doesn’t understand the real me, and I don’t want her too. She can just die in a ditch. This isn’t her life and never will be. I hate her. I really do. And I’ll never forgive her for everything she’s done for me. When I turn 18, I’m leaving and I’m never coming back. I better start saving now because my plans of leaving are a short need of a lot of money. Oh woe is me.
- Cassandra
This place is a dungeon. It was a prison and I was its prisoner. My mind, my soul, my body was locked away inside its stone walls. No way of getting out, no way or leaving. I was stuck here. My parents didn’t approve of anything. They want to keep me tucked in this cold, sad place they call home. I don’t call it home, I call it hell. I thought home was supposed to be a place of safety, not a place of peril? Isn’t it supposed to be some place where you can run to when you're in trouble? This is the one place I don’t want to be, but the one place I can never leave. I always have to be home by a certain time; I’m never allowed to leave the house. I was stuck here because if I left I’d be ‘up to no good.’ Does she not know who I am? Can she no longer trust me? Of course, I wouldn’t trust me either. I think she loves to slowly torture me. Slowly, but steadily dissect me. I’m on her operating table and she’s ripping me apart.
She’ll start with cutting up my legs. The knife goes deeper into my right calf. She’ll take out the muscle tissue; the she’ll rip apart the rest of my body. Piece by piece, letting the pain swallow me whole. Does she not remember what it’s like to be young? Has old age absorbed her and spit out the remaining empty shell. Was it the cigarettes that basically ruined her life?
My mom is basically the reason my life is hard. How she likes to control everything I do. I sometimes think that she’s my own personal Hitler and I’m just a Jew trying to get by and live my life. I think her constant need for control has turned my life upside down. The ‘love’ I have for her died. I hate her.
I know, how could you hate your own mother, it’s impossible, she hasn’t done anything to you, she’s the best mother out there. No, she’s not. My mother is cruel and unfair. She likes things done her way. If you get in the way, you’ll be stricken by her fists. Hit, bruised, and not even a second thought. ‘Get it done, or else.’ Everyone has heard that line, no matter who you are. ‘Or else.’ Is the scary part, the threat? The part you don’t want to see happen. The part where nothing else matters until you get what you need to get done, because if you don’t something bad is most likely going to happen to you.
My mom is the predator and I’m her prey. She believes that she does everything for me, what she doesn’t realize that the ‘everything’ is nothing. She believes that she’s some super mom and that all she does is basically wonderful. What she needs to intact in this sharp reality is that, no. my mom is basically the worse mother in the world and that I curse being related to her. I know that what I just stated was mean, but honestly, I don’t care. It’s the truth and what this woman believes is different to her reality.
My mom is a compulsive smoker with no signs of quitting. She’ll be smoking until the day she dies. She smoked when I was in her womb and I think that is why I came out so deformed. No, I’m not deformed on the outside, but on the inside I don’t know who I am. I believe some of her genes rubbed off into me. I’m deathly afraid if this is the truth. I don’t want to be like my mom. I’ve told her that I’d kill myself if this happened. I never want to be like her. Not in a year, not in a million years, not even in the next life time.
The woman thinks that she works her ass off at work, but really her job is simple. A monkey could work her job. She works in a factory, easy peasy. Then, my mom comes home and sits on the couch and watches TV. Doesn’t make supper, doesn’t clean, just sits and watches her soap operas. If I ever become that lazy, oh, I hope the dear lord saves my soul. The woman can’t even take an hour out of her time to drive me somewhere, but she can sure as hell drive my brother around to see his girlfriend when I’m not even allowed to have a significant other. Honestly what’s the difference between boys and girls anyways?
‘It’s different. Your bother is more responsible.’ He’s responsible by lying to my mom, going to a party, and having to walk home in the dark. Yes, mom, he’s very responsible. They allow my brother to be alone with his girlfriend, it’s like they don’t know teenaged boy hormones. I think that they must be ready to be grandparents if they don't keep him on a short leash.
I didn’t write this for people to see, I wrote this because I was angry that nothing ever happens to me. When I get invited to ever do anything outside of school, I get rejected by my parents. I get told that I have to suffer for my lazy, no good mother. I tell my friends about her and how much she screws me over and they agree that she’s a bitch. Of course, full details never arrive to them, for they just don’t understand. Don’t realize how living with a dragon can just be so bad.
I don’t remember the last time I told her I love her, because in all truth, I don’t love her. And I don’t think I ever will. Call me mean, call me whatever you want, but at least you can’t call me a liar. Some people think that saying, ''I hate her.'' Is taking it to an extreme but I’d rather have a mother who doesn’t care then the one I have now. She thinks she can live her life through me, but she can’t. I rebel all the time and she knows how I feel about her. She doesn’t understand the real me, and I don’t want her too. She can just die in a ditch. This isn’t her life and never will be. I hate her. I really do. And I’ll never forgive her for everything she’s done for me. When I turn 18, I’m leaving and I’m never coming back. I better start saving now because my plans of leaving are a short need of a lot of money. Oh woe is me.
- Cassandra
♠ ♠ ♠
1,112 words.This is from my personal