One more argument, one more heartbreak.
I just had an argument with myself.
I think I can control my life ever since my dad died.
I have to cook, clean, and jump for her, as long with jumping at every command she utters.
She expects that when she says “jump”, I’ll ask her “how high?”
The truth is, I can’t live like this.
I haven’t seen the sun in months.
I’ve given up hope of ever getting out of this house alive.
I’m a slave. What else can I do, but be a slave?
I am tired of going to bed and hoping against hope that someone’s going to come and rescue me.
I wake up every day in vain, that no one came in the middle of the night and took me away from this life.
Not even dreams have kept me going.
It’s the hope of her letting me go before she does something worse to me that keeps me fighting.
I have little to no clothing.
I only eat portioned foods.
I am starving, frozen, aching, and physically and mentally exhausted.
I live in the basement on the floor.
I look around, but there’s nothing here.
The walls are void of anything of value, the windows are boarded up, but I see a hole between the boards.
Every night I stare at that hole and pray.
I pray that my father was still alive, that my mother was never born, or that I receive a good, nourishing meal.
I am tired of what this came to.
I am terrified of what will happen to me if I refuse to do her bidding.
I go to bed at 6:00 pm and wake up at 5:00 am.
I have no friends.
I am home-schooled.
I dream of going to a real school, having friends, feeling the sun shining on me and making me smile.
My smiles are rare.
They’re much like Band-Aids.
They cover up the pain I feel every day.
My life has turned upside down ever since my dad left.
I argue with myself every day to get up and walk out of this room, and never look back.
I dream of walking out of here, to see the sunshine and feel it.
I start to walk out, but then the light slowly fades.
Every day it seems like my life in ending.
I can’t live this anymore.
I want a husband, kids, and a job.
But I embrace my life, because those are only dreams.
They can never come true.
My life, now, is reality.
I can’t do it anymore.
I’ve given my life to her, but she’s never satisfied.
I’ve long since ceased trying to please her.
I’m going to fight.
I’m going to try.
I can do it.
I’m leaving…
But, yet, I can’t.
It’s one more argument, one more heartbreak.
I can’t do it.
I’ve given up.
I’m stuck here.
Forever.
Until I die.