The Tormented Soul

I remember the day I came home and found my dad packing his bags. I was no more than 9 years old when I witnessed my sister, tears streaming down her 5 year old face and clinging onto him for dear life. My mother was a sobbing mess, vodka bottles scattered on the floor. "Dad?" I said softly. "Daddy, where are you going?" I asked. He gave me a cold glare full of hatred and continued to pack up whatever he could that was his in the living room and kitchen. I felt that the best thing to do was to just keep quiet.

"I'm sick and tired of your bitch ass! Always telling me how to run my own house. My own fucking house! I pay the bills! I'm an actual citizen, you damn alien! I'm here for you! And all you care about it bringing me down. But I'm gonna fix your ass. See who's laughing now motherfucker," my dad screamed in rage. He slapped my mom, making the blonde headed woman fall to the ground from where she sat in a big heap. I sat back in the corner by the front door, my backpack and shoes still on. I was petrified. He hit my mother, and at that time I thought I would get hit too.

Ever since dad got into drugs, he's been delusional. And when he's actually sane, he verbally abuses mom all the time. That was the first time I've actually seen him own up to his threats. Before leaving through the front door with 3 suitcases, my angry father turned to me and said "I hope you burn in hell as well. Both you and your sister are the fucking devil." Tears streamed down my face silently and I watched him breathe hard, his chest rising and falling. His hands gripped those heavy suitcases so hard, the hairy knuckles turned white.

The front door slammed, startling me. Letting me know that he had left. He walked out, and to this day I'm not completely sure why he left. I remember hugging my sister who screamed over the loss of our dad. My cries were silent, my thoughts were electrocuted, and my face was like stone. I heard my mother's cries mixed into the sounds of my sister's.

The next day was no better, because of school. Everyone noticed how quiet I was. When the kids bullied and teased me like normal, I didn't fight back. I put up with them dumping glue in my hair, I put up with them calling me all those names... I felt empty. I didn't feel like saying anything, let alone being alive.

"Why are you so quiet?" A little boy named Jordan asked. He had a mean look on his face, and when I turned my head to let him know to leave me alone, he grabbed my hand. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" He fussed, standing in front of where I stared. All the other kids played around, and screamed with joy or hatred for another. Recess was so fun for me. Not anymore. Looking back to Jordan in the eyes, I shook my head and put it down in my hands. I clenched my eyes, feeling tears starting to surface.

You will not cry. Not in front of him. You cry alone. I thought to myself. That's how it was now. I kept up a poker face and cried alone. "Hey! I said," Jordan said. I felt his hands push me off the bench I was sitting on. "I'm talking to you!" He screamed. Tears poured out of my eyes. I couldn't take anymore, and just broke. "Answer me! Answer me!" He said. I saw his feet in front of my face, and just like that, they came colliding to where my nose settled.

I heard a blood curdling cry before I realized I'm the one who made it. I was in pain. Inside of my head, and outside. Jordan kicked my face again, harder. This time in my mouth. "Answer me! Answer me!" He screamed again. This kid was like a broken record. I screamed again, my entire body shaking. I opened my eyes slowly when the kicked stopped. I saw a multiple of feet around me and I still didn't bother to move. I just let the tears and painful cries escape from me.

People laughed. They all laughed at my pain. I don't know who or how many, but I started to feel people. Feet. A multiple of feet and fists coming down on me painfully all over my body.

Of course, a teacher finally heard me screaming and sent me to the nurse. I don't know who else was in the office with me, but I heard a man's voice as I faded in and out of consciousness. "She was beaten to near death, and all you can do is suspend the kids?! This is bullshit!" It sounded like my dad. My eyes snapped open, fighting hard against falling asleep. My head felt numb, my entire body felt bloody, sticky, and swollen.

"Dad?" I croaked. "Dad?" I asked louder. I shifted my body, making myself move to get to my father. I fell onto the nurse's cold tiled floor. My body screamed at me, telling me to stop, and I felt too weak to even move. I sighed and started to cry again, knowing it was useless. I can't see my dad again.

"Nurse! Come quick! She fell!" I heard the man yell. I felt him pick me up, holding me like a baby. Opening my eyes weakly, I looked at the blurry looking figure in front of me. Slowly and weakly, I raised up my bruised arms to the man's neck. Grabbing with the little strength I had left, I squeezed around his neck. It didn't do much but surprise him. He started thrashing around, trying to hold me but get his arms off of me at the same time.

"Why did you leave?" I whispered. "You hit mom. You're evil. You're the devil! I'm not evil! They are! You are!" I screamed as loud as I could. I felt my life slipping from my eyes. My hands letting go numbly. Finally, my eyes closed for the final time and I felt into a blanket of black.

I still don't know if that man was really my father. The nurse told me it was the councillor of the school, and my red hand marks around his neck the next day proved that. He came to my house, threatening to call child services because of my freak out on him.

I let my family down. We're being under watch by child services because of me. They're gonna take me away. This is why my father left. He was right. Maybe I am evil.

That was all just in elementary. But middle school was no different. I got beat up nearly everyday. I was called names, I was made fun off for the way I looked. Ever since dad left, we had to move to a cheaper place to live. It was a 3 bedroom apartment with only 1 bathroom. It was 200 a month because of the terrible bug infestations and run down neighborhood it was located. People made fun of the cheap clothes I wore, how my hair looked so messy all the time, and how I never talked. I didn't talk again until 8th grade. I met someone.

It was a girl. She made me smile, even though I was so sad all the time. She helped me when I was lost in an ocean of confusion and depression. Her name was Deliah. After about 3 months of our quaint friendship, she asked to sleep over. I let her, after screaming to my mom about it. I got her so angry she beat me and left me and my sister at the house for a week. Deliah came over during that week. I tried so hard to make everything look normal. Like a normal nice home should look. But this house wasn't a home. It was a nightmare. The looks on her face told me that she hated my lifestyle. The lifestyle I got strung into because of my father.

The week after, I went back to school. I had to spend a while on the streets, begging people for cash. Whenever mom left my sister and I alone, I always had to go out and beg for money on the streets. It's dangerous, but it brought us food. I remember walking to my next class. The bell had rung so Deliah ran off, bidding me a goodbye. I shared a small smile at her departure. I then knew that I had liked Deliah more than a friend. I knew that she's out of my league, but I still felt that way. I don't even know if I still do, but I know I'll never forget how she made me feel. I was happy with the little I had.

But that all changed. Of course Deliah turned out to be like everyone else. She called me names, beat me up- just like everyone else did. I was in deeper pain and depression than I've ever felt. I felt like I was trapped in a repeating cycle and the more I was bined into it, my will to live broke less and less every day that I was alive.

But that's all gone now. I can be free of everything I've ever felt. All the pain. All the neglect. All the abuse. All the torment.

I don't have to live with that anymore. Because now I don't have a life at all.