A feint Hope

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


This short story is dedicated to my whole life, some of it does relate, but not all of it.

Submitted: December 16, 2017

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Submitted: December 16, 2017

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 I sat down, just on my own bed, crying. My mother stormed in, quite angered and blinded with hatred, “Why did you do that?” she yelled, right at my face, her expression does not show care nor love like it used to, only hatred. “Why would you find something and smash it, which is not yours?!” I sniffed and weeped, unwilling to speak, trapped within my fears and my emotions just faded away. I was not the kid I used to be, the happy, joyful, and playful kind, now I was... broken, like I was a fragile piece of glass from a beautiful window and broken apart. My mother grabbed the hold of my face, “Look at me,” she says, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” I couldn’t open my eyes, it was filling up with tears and darkness, my mind being emptied, my happy memories vanish like I have forgotten about it. I felt a slap on my face, however, I barely felt it since my face felt very numb. “If you ever smash anything at my house,” she recalls, “You won’t be living here anymore!” She tries to threaten me with those same words, the same ones she has used to discipline me when I’ve done something terrible. They did not scare me no more, I now know why she have said those, I’ve become to someone new, or something new. I keep mumbling under my sniffles and cries, but I did not understand what I am saying nor did my mother, I shivered so roughly, afraid of myself, afraid of everything. “Never, do it again.” she says the last time, then leaves, leaving the door open. Never, this word, never, I have heard it many times but it would never end, this suffering. I collapse on my bed, my hands over my ears, silently whispering, “It’s not me,” I say, “it’s you. It’s not me, it’s you. It’s not me, it’s you.” I repeat those exact words, nonstop until I couldn’t catch my breath. Then, I fall asleep, my mind still feel the emptiness.

 

 The morning light, the light that burns my eyes, I rub my face and look at the mirror. My eyes were still red from last night, the unforgettable night. It’s strange how one good soul turns into a demonic spawn from hell, never realized I was actually trapped, in my own mind. I got up and went out of my room, went downstairs and saw my mother glaring at me near the kitchen stove. “Go take a shower and come here to eat,” she says. “Don’t take too long, you’ll need to wake up your brother too once you are finished.” I didn’t even look at her, but I went straight for the bathroom, to the shower, covered the curtains, and washed myself, even though I can’t wash my mind. After finishing, I wake up my brother, not even talking, it felt like I’ve lost my voice. He got up and went straight to the bathroom, I went to my bedroom and got ready, for another eternal life of suffering, got my jeans, socks, and my sneakers on. I went downstairs once again, went to the kitchen table, grabbed my lunch, and then wore my jacket and coat on. “Eat your breakfast!” My mother yells. I didn’t obey, but instead, I turn my head and reply, “Would you be happy if I just vanished, without having to tell you?” I said with almost no emotion portrayed, nor did I felt anything, then I went to the front door and left without anymore words, my mind racing, “It’s not me, it’s you,” I whisper, “they wouldn’t mind after all.” Right after I walked towards the street, my mother heard a car rang out and people screaming outside.


© Copyright 2020 RBs. All rights reserved.

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