Status: Cautiously updating..
Cigarette Stains
Late Nights
The nightmare always starts the same, I’m in my car and I’m stuck, stuck in the back seat with an immovable force holding me down. Forcing me to endure the torture of what happened that night all those months ago. I wake up in a cold sweat every night and reach for the glass of water by my bed desperate to quench the thirst in my throat the one that begins and ends in the terror of that night.
I might not remember what happened to me but I understand, I understand what the next morning meant. A part of me is happy not to remember, pleased that I don’t have to relive the nightmare but another part of me wants to know, wants to remember so this pain in my heart will finally be justified.
I think I am broken beyond repair and the nightmares reinforce this feeling, so with tired legs from not enough sleep and too much running away I get out of bed and walk the dark halls of my house until I find the one person I can depend on in my moments of darkness, my father. He has no idea why I no longer sleep or why I find even the easiest of tasks so damn difficult but he does understand something happened to me I am not ready to discuss.
I find my father sitting at his MacBook with a blank text document open, he is starting his latest novel and so far there has been many nights of empty pages and silence. My dad is a young man with dark hair that sprouts from his head in unruly curls that seem as untameable as he is, his lips are thick like mine and his eyes are the same intense kind of green. He doesn’t notice my presence in the doorway of his office and for a moment I just stand there and watch the man that raised me by himself.
My mother died when I was three from cancer and since then it has been my dad and me, sometimes a girlfriend joins us but never for too long because my father can’t commit to takeaway let alone another soul, and that makes me feel sad for him.
“Dad?” I ask stepping in from the doorway and pausing inside the office feeling like I have just disturbed him.
“Yeah sweetie?”
“I can’t sleep” I don’t know why I tell him this but I do and I am suddenly so desperate for him to fix me like he would when I was a child and scraped my knee. But no words or band aids can fix the hole in my heart and that hurts, really hurts and I think I gasp out loud from the pain.
When I was a child and had a nightmare I would crawl in bed with my father and a part of me aches for that simpler time when crawling in bed with my father chased away all my demons but things are different and no amount of calm words of pats on the head can fix what has been broken.
“Oh sweetheart would you like me to make you some tea?” My dad asks a frown covering his handsome face, I want cup of tea but I don’t want to bother my father so I shake my head feeling awkward in my own body.
“I’m okay, I just thought I’d come annoy you” I tell him lightly hoping that his smile will help the broken beat of my heart when it doesn’t I am left feeling worse off, as if I have been ripped open and fed to the dogs. I want to crawl on the floor and cry until my chest caves in but I know I can’t, my dad is busy and I am tired.
“You could never annoy me” He replies even though we both know it is a lie, I annoy him all the time or at least I did before everything went so wrong, and that again makes me sad it seems everything makes me sad these days. I tell my dad goodnight and place a small kiss on his head walking back to my room and crawling under the sheets where it is warm and for a second I feel at peace.
I shake with fear and coldness in the dark night waiting for memories that are not there. The night that left me so broken is a complete blur but I know from what happened the next morning what had occurred.
I had awoken in the backseat of my car at the beach with tears stuck to my cheeks and blood dried to my thighs, it didn’t take much to realise what had happened. The throbbing pain in my vagina was a dead giveaway that something bad happened in my safe place, my panties hung on the review mirror were the clincher. I don’t think I have ever cried quite so hard, it seemed every tear I ever possessed feel from my eyes and I cried until I couldn’t think, until my chest was ragged with heavy breathes and I was broken.
I cried until the realisation sunk in, I was raped.
I was violated and broken until nothing was left and now I am still trying to pick up the pieces and put myself back together, but is’ hard. Harder than I ever realised and I want to die. I want to die so that for a second I can stop feeling this god awful pain, it’s gut wrenching and I don’t know how to deal with it.
I don’t go to the beach tonight because the sea air makes the pain worse, I lay in bed until morning waiting for my hear to give out from all the pain, when it doesn’t I am disappointed, so disappointed.
I might not remember what happened to me but I understand, I understand what the next morning meant. A part of me is happy not to remember, pleased that I don’t have to relive the nightmare but another part of me wants to know, wants to remember so this pain in my heart will finally be justified.
I think I am broken beyond repair and the nightmares reinforce this feeling, so with tired legs from not enough sleep and too much running away I get out of bed and walk the dark halls of my house until I find the one person I can depend on in my moments of darkness, my father. He has no idea why I no longer sleep or why I find even the easiest of tasks so damn difficult but he does understand something happened to me I am not ready to discuss.
I find my father sitting at his MacBook with a blank text document open, he is starting his latest novel and so far there has been many nights of empty pages and silence. My dad is a young man with dark hair that sprouts from his head in unruly curls that seem as untameable as he is, his lips are thick like mine and his eyes are the same intense kind of green. He doesn’t notice my presence in the doorway of his office and for a moment I just stand there and watch the man that raised me by himself.
My mother died when I was three from cancer and since then it has been my dad and me, sometimes a girlfriend joins us but never for too long because my father can’t commit to takeaway let alone another soul, and that makes me feel sad for him.
“Dad?” I ask stepping in from the doorway and pausing inside the office feeling like I have just disturbed him.
“Yeah sweetie?”
“I can’t sleep” I don’t know why I tell him this but I do and I am suddenly so desperate for him to fix me like he would when I was a child and scraped my knee. But no words or band aids can fix the hole in my heart and that hurts, really hurts and I think I gasp out loud from the pain.
When I was a child and had a nightmare I would crawl in bed with my father and a part of me aches for that simpler time when crawling in bed with my father chased away all my demons but things are different and no amount of calm words of pats on the head can fix what has been broken.
“Oh sweetheart would you like me to make you some tea?” My dad asks a frown covering his handsome face, I want cup of tea but I don’t want to bother my father so I shake my head feeling awkward in my own body.
“I’m okay, I just thought I’d come annoy you” I tell him lightly hoping that his smile will help the broken beat of my heart when it doesn’t I am left feeling worse off, as if I have been ripped open and fed to the dogs. I want to crawl on the floor and cry until my chest caves in but I know I can’t, my dad is busy and I am tired.
“You could never annoy me” He replies even though we both know it is a lie, I annoy him all the time or at least I did before everything went so wrong, and that again makes me sad it seems everything makes me sad these days. I tell my dad goodnight and place a small kiss on his head walking back to my room and crawling under the sheets where it is warm and for a second I feel at peace.
I shake with fear and coldness in the dark night waiting for memories that are not there. The night that left me so broken is a complete blur but I know from what happened the next morning what had occurred.
I had awoken in the backseat of my car at the beach with tears stuck to my cheeks and blood dried to my thighs, it didn’t take much to realise what had happened. The throbbing pain in my vagina was a dead giveaway that something bad happened in my safe place, my panties hung on the review mirror were the clincher. I don’t think I have ever cried quite so hard, it seemed every tear I ever possessed feel from my eyes and I cried until I couldn’t think, until my chest was ragged with heavy breathes and I was broken.
I cried until the realisation sunk in, I was raped.
I was violated and broken until nothing was left and now I am still trying to pick up the pieces and put myself back together, but is’ hard. Harder than I ever realised and I want to die. I want to die so that for a second I can stop feeling this god awful pain, it’s gut wrenching and I don’t know how to deal with it.
I don’t go to the beach tonight because the sea air makes the pain worse, I lay in bed until morning waiting for my hear to give out from all the pain, when it doesn’t I am disappointed, so disappointed.