Mind Overdoes

“I hate you! I regret the day we even met!” I heard my dad yelled through the thick walls of my room. Then slap. I lay in my bed numb. The fat hot tears were running down my face. I choked back a sob. My parents have been fighting every day for the past three years. Every day was the same routine. Come home, yell, and get slapped. It was a never ending cycle. Sometimes my dad would get so angry he would come after me too, which was very often.

On the occasions he would hit me he would hit me hard. I’m talking about full on punches, and grabbing a fist full of long caramel hair my hair. He ruined this “family.” My mom and I planned so many escapes but she is too naïve she would never be able to it.

I close my eyes and try to remember the family I used to have. The family that was loving and supportive and non-abusive. I can hear my dad stomping down the hall. He’s coming after me I know it. I still try to focus on the happy memories, like the time when we went on a family trip to Florida to go to Disney world.

I remember us smiling so much our cheeks started to hurt. My dad just opened the door, but I’m still trying to focus on the happy memory. He grabs my hair and drags me out of my bed with it. I fall on the floor hard with a scream.

“Stop please.” I sob. His grip on my hair tightens. He pulls me up and looks me in the eyes. My mouth was agape little sobs coming out. My hair now a mess and probably some clumps in his hand.

“You are a pathetic excuse for a son. You are the reason we are even like this. Alexander William Gaskarth I’m a shame to be your father.” His hot breath fanning over my face, the smell of alcohol is strong. I let out another sob. The voice that once read me bed times stories and sung lullabies are is now the voices from my nightmares.

“I hate you.” He says with disgust. He spits on my face. Before I could eve react he punched me in the face. I let out a scream as I collapse on the ground. He just laughs and kicks me in the stomach.
I try to focus on the happy memory so that way when I black out I can be happy.

I actually like it when my father beats me so much I black out. I know I sound crazy but would you want to sit there and deal with all of that pain and suffering? On top of that dealing with your thoughts? No, plus I feel better when I’m asleep. I feel non-threaten, I feel safe. Sometimes when I black out I see my boyfriend and I. His name is John. He’s literally the only reason why I’m still alive.
I feel as my father’s- can I even call him that still? - Stomps on my head repeatedly- Eventually I black out.

I wake up on the floor of my bedroom. The pains hitting me like a train, but I’m pretty sure a train hitting me would hurt less. I crack open my eyes to stare at the gray walls. My body was curled into a little ball. I looked down to notice blood on the floor. I felt tears start to stream down my face. I reach for something, anything really that could help me stand up. Eventually I find my bed. After a few tries I finally stand up with whimpers and a river flowing from my eyes.

I glace at my window to see it’s still dark. I flop on my bed and rummage around for my phone. After a few seconds I find it and dial a familiar number. After about 2 rings he answers.

“Lo? Are you okay?” The voice says through the phone. I just let out a loud sob. I shake my head side to side as if he could see my response.

“John,” I hiccup, “I can’t do this anymore.” I cry. “I don’t want to live like this anymore.” I heard him sigh on the other line.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.” He said. I didn’t respond I just kept crying. He let out another sigh.

“Please stay on the phone.” I hiccup. I heard him mumble something which I took as an okay since he didn’t hang up. I heard shuffling through the phone then the jingles of keys.

“What happened?” He asked annoyed. I could hear the sound of the car door slamming then the starting of the car.

“Mom and dad got into a fight again.” I never really told John that my dad abuses me and my mom. I know he could one of two ways. He could lose his shit or not give a shit. John wasn’t a good boy. He’s been arrested a few times. He has tattoos covering his body. He had stellar blue eyes and a big heart. We’ve been together for almost a year now. He makes me happy, like I said; he’s the only thing keeping me alive.

“You need to stop with this bullshit! Just because you’re fucking parents fight doesn’t mean you have to be sad.” He yells. “And I’m tired of coming over in the middle of the night to help your sorry ass.” The tears stream faster down my face. Another sob escapes my mouth.

“You know what? I can’t handle your bullshit anymore. I’m breaking up with you, you pathetic piece of shit.” He growled. Then the line went dead. I kept the phone up to my ear. I was frozen in shock. Then it hit me.

My boyfriend just broke up with me. The only thing that was keeping me alive gave up on me. I sobbed louder than I ever did before. Then I let out a loud scream.

“Scream again and I’ll fucking kill you!” I heard my dad yell. I screamed again. The famous John Green once said ‘That’s the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.” I just wish it didn’t hurt so badly. I heard my dad open the door. I turned towards him and look in in his brown eyes that are now filled with anger.

“Kill me I don’t care anymore!” I yelled at him. If looks could kill I would be dead. He came charging at me. I felt unbearable pain. Then I smiled. How great it must be to feel all of this pain at once then none at all. I whimper and scream as my ‘dad’ punches me all over my body. Then his punches stopped. I know him, he usually goes on forever. Then I heard him chuckle.
He grabbed my neck and I heard his belt buckle becoming undone. He went for my pants and started to pull them down. When I tried to wiggle away he squeezed my neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled into my ear. I started sobbing and screaming.

“No please I’m sorry.” I cried. “Mom help me!” I screamed. I kicked my legs and threw my arms. I heard he chuckle and he squeezed my neck tighter to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I could feel him pulling down my boxers. Then I black out.

Cracking my eyelids open I see that I’m in a bright white room. I keep hearing an annoying beeping sound. My body aches, the lights hurt my eyes. I was wearing a hospital gown instead of my regular clothes. There was a needle in my arm and it was hooked up to an IV. Wait hospital?
Hospital. The word rang throughout my head.

Hospital. Does this mean me and my mom are saved? A smiled made its way on my face. I wince in pain but I think it was worth it. Then tears started to stream down my face, and for the first time in
years they were happy tears.

Finally freedom, no more abuse, no more hiding from people, and no more ‘What happened’
questions. Then the door opened. A tall dark haired man entered. He was wearing a white coat and had a clipboard in his hand.

“You’re awake.” He smiled. I returned the smile even though it hurt like hell.

“How long have I’ve been out?” I rasped. My throat hurt so much, it felt like someone lit a fire to it. The doctor chuckled.

“I’ll get you water in a minute. Then he flipped through the clipboard to find the answer to my question.

“About three months.” My mouth dropped in shocked. I felt confused and hurt. Memories came at me too fast. I remember how exactly how I ended up here. I remember him pulling down my boxers.

“Oh god,” I sobbed. That monster took my virginity. He raped me. More tears pool out of my eyes.
“What’s wrong, Alex son you have to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” I shook my head. He came closer to me and hugged me close to his chest.

“I was raped.” I sobbed. “My father raped me.” He quickly got up.

“I’ll be back with your water okay?” I nodded. Tears still streaming down my face, I thought I was finally happy now that we were safe. I sobbed ripped through me. Now I’ve realize now all I have are those memories, those flashbacks. Now I was all alone just me, with my thoughts and the horrible memories.

“Why me?” I sob.