Monday, April 25, 2011

Up the Wolves 7

It's in their eyes when you try to tell them what's wrong. You try to explain that you have been abused since the age of eleven and you honestly can't remember a month passing by where you felt safe and secure. Everything slowly fell around you, but you yourself didn't fall. No, that would have been easy to do. Instead, you slowly sunk, and then eventually, she pushed you down, down, down. No one cares until you've finally drowned. That's when they send social services. Not when a poor teenage boy is desperately on the phone pleading for help. No, no, no. They don't believe you. They don't care. No one cares. Hell, your own fucking mother doesn't care, why would anyone else? Your family doesn't care. Your teachers don't care. Your friends.... oh, who am I kidding, what friends, right? Who really cares except you? And that's sometimes the worst part. Forget the actual abuse. Sometimes the most pain comes from the fact that you're the only one who cares at this point. Some people like to pretend themselves into nonexistence and see how anyone would react. They pretend like no one would care if they disappeared. But they don't understand. We know what it's like to disappear. We know what it's like to have no one care. To watch ourselves disappear slowly and slowly everyday in the mirror. We forget who we are in an attempt to stop ourselves from becoming what we're not: her. We're not her, right? Right. I'll never be like her, ever. Goddammit. I could never be like her. Who laughs in the face of their own son, who's crying their goddamn eyes out? Who takes them by the throat and chokes and chokes them and I can't breathe. It's so unfair, to look into her eyes and see nothing there. Not even hatred. Just... nothing. It's the worst thing in the world. Wait, no. The worst thing... is looking in your reflection, and seeing the same emptiness in your own eyes. When you see her within you. When you see how easy it would be to slip into the same madness, to give up and become dead to the world. To stop existing on your own and just... let it be. No fighting. No surviving. Just death inside and outside. Christ, I want to say that if I ever had children, I would never, ever let myself treat them like this. But how could I ever know? What if the madness takes over me completely? So much that I become another person entirely. Maybe that's what Grey was, actually. A manifestation of her inside of me. Maybe the past few months have been a gigantic hallucination and I'm nothing but a sick attention whore trying to push all of my problems on something else inside of me that just doesn't exist. Isn't that it, Owen? No it's not!! Who am I anyway? Who am I, when you get down to it, really? Aren't I just her? A part of her, grown into its own thing? I remember when she told me I was an accident. Maybe that really is all I am, entirely. I'm an accident within the world, and the world doesn't know what to do with me. So it forgets me, everyone forgets me, and I don't belong so why don't I take the express exit and do everyone a favor? But my siblings. But they hate me. They seem so discontent with me. Even my little sister. I hate myself so much. I hate me more than I hate my mother. I hate who I am. I hate that I even try. I hate that I still have the arrogance to think that maybe things will get better, when they're fucking not, ever. Nothing ever gets better. No one stays. Steven will go. Everyone left. Everyone leaves. Everyone is leaving. And who gives me the right to whine on the internet, right? Who cares. Who cares. I have no right to whine like this. There's others who deserve help more than I do. There's others who are in immediate danger. April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. I looked it up online today. There's so many people out there just like me. Who need help more than I do. Who are more valuable than I am. But my siblings... they need help. But no one cares. You don't care. And I don't care anymore either. At this point, I'm nowhere to be found. My eyes are just as empty as my mother is. Remember all that arrogance I had? I thought I could take on the world and come out on top. I thought that I could face the adversaryity, and escape this horrible place. Escape this gray, depressing home and find somewhere I can level out. But I don't think I can anymore. I don't feel strong anymore. I don't feel like I can do anything but sleep. That's all I want to do at this point. Just sleep. And never wake up. I guess that's cliche. I've been cliche for a while now, to be honest. People like to tell you to rise above your station in life, but it's literally impossible when no one is helping pull you up. You need people to love you. To help you. I get so jealous of that. People loving people. People receiving love. Romance. Affection. All of these things that I'll never have. Life is so unfair. That's the thing I want to stress the most. How unfair everything is. For anyone and everyone on this planet. So imbalanced. I feel so tired.

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