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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a confessional. A story of memories that go through my mind when I picked up a memory box. I went to rehab when I was 16/17, and had the best and the worst experiences that haunt me to this day.

Submitted: January 14, 2019

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Submitted: October 09, 2018



7 years since I left. 6 years since I came back. 6 years sober this coming July.

It's been 4 years since he died. I miss the memory of him.

I found my box of memories the year I disappeared from my life. I traveled to another city, more than halfway accross the country.

In this box I have hundreds of letters, birthday cards, Christmas cards; There are notes passed in secret. There was a diary that is now missing cause it's stuck in another box. It's labeled, "Evidence".

I remember the screaming of people who wanted to go home. Renee threw her luggage out onto the cement ground, pleading to return with her parents. Beau found a knife and tried to stab me with it. Katie rebelled and tried to set the car on fire. How my first roommate took out the drugs from her pocket and took a sniff.

She handed them to me and said, "We're gonna die anyway."

I remember the girl with beautiful blond hair. She was goregous and so full of life. Nobody knew why she was here, a bunch of misfits itching for a buzz, until she tried to take her life. Her wrists were destoryed. I remember thinking, "She's going to have those scars forever."

I remember the boys on the other side of the school. Their side glances and flirtations. Even calling, "hello" was a crime if it came from them. Kennedy snuck away got stole a kiss from Henry by the out of tune piano, hidden in the corridor.

I remember almost every face, especially the older ones. I always had a thing for men who were older.  I especially remember the one with the biggest smile. He was so full of life before he left this Earth. He was too good for it anyway.

I remember Rockwell retreat. The guitar I brought 5 provinces away and sung my sisters to sleep. The Dragon Boat that lapped against the river. I was terrified of falling over and you all took my hand to calm me.

I remember the day I discovered my host family were monsters with gentle words and invading hands. The pills the Father slipped into my water and waking up to unspeakable things.

I was the first of three (possibly 4) that were abused under his hands. I yelled at him for it and he never came for me again. Instead he manipulated me, made me jealous of his attentions going somewhere else. On another underaged girl. He never cared for me.

I remember the yelling and the throwing of books. I held onto the Fathers children so they wouldn't call for their mommy. I sung them little lullabies so they could forget the memory. The slamming of a door in the middle of the night and the weeping of a mother who knew she was right.

I remember the day they said I was going home. I was terrified and I didn't want to go. I had grown acustomed to the life they gave me. Chaotic and violent but it became family.

I wrote a song, intended for release, but I decided to keep it like these memories. Until now.

These memories don't make sense to a reader who wasn't there. But know that I saw everything and handled it with care. This isn't a poem or a well written story. It's a bunch of memories that i keep with me. I'm not a successful author, I'm just a college student, journal writing writer.

© Copyright 2019 paulinanilah13. All rights reserved.

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