Unwanted tenant

      We moved into this house when I was three.
I remember I saw his true face when I was four.
He could have existed earlier but I don’t remember. There were happy days but the days of terror cloud them easily.
As soon as I hear his voice reach that tone its to the corner I go. I tried to bury it deep inside, the fear that made me cry.

     I’m so strong everyone says yet this demon still lives in my space. I don’t want to talk about him. I spent 16 years of my life since birth with his presence over me; he hit me, he broke me, he left me in the cold, I remember that when I was six years old. Out in the snow, in my nightgown, the gold ribbon escaped my hair, forever stained with blood. I watched it as I trembled, fly away and wished I was never born. I wanted to be that ribbon, so bright yet stained it got away.

     When I was 16 I moved into my aunt's.
The psychiatrists didn’t help. No one helped.

     My mother was in denial and still is. So as I sit here now in my not so safe place, listening to her cry, listening to him yell. Absorbing the fear of it all, wondering why she lets him dwell. Reminiscing about the past at one point I use to run, but he always caught up, no matter where I went. When I turned 16 I left that house, it only lasted a year. He said he would try to calm down and act more sincere. It was all a façade. I should have known and perhaps I did, but for now I’m trapped in the room were everything began.

          With my blanket I’m almost 20.
Hiding in my purple walled room, sitting here and trembling behind my shattered ego’s glass.

     My mother will never listen. She doesn’t want to learn. So as he is binded to this place, I try to come and go. I need to get my self out there, find a place of my own. Maybe then I reestablish that little room I use to own. At night I say my prayers. I usually pray for good things, I ask God above to watch over things. But nights like these are often and I let the selfish take over my prayers, to God I pray for his death and for sweet silence to my ears.