The family wreck

Eleven (edited)

Esmeray

Everyone looked at me until Theo got off the couch and ran towards me.

"Esmayyyy!!!" He yelled.

I picked him up and spun him around. He laughed and giggled. The joy on his face was pure happiness.

"Hey, buddy! When did you wake up?"

"I woke up an hour ago. Where were you? I thought you left me." He said sadly.

"I just went out for a little bit. I would never leave you. Ever you hear me?" I said, crouching down to his level.

"Yeah. I am hungry."

"You are hungry. What do you want to eat?"

"Scrambled eggs and bacon!!!"

"Scrambled eggs and bacon it is!"

We walked out of the room and towards the kitchen. The boys followed behind.

I asked them where the stuff was to make the eggs and bacon, which they happily showed me.

Theo wanted to learn how to make scrambled eggs, so I let him help me make them. He loved it!

He sat down at the table and ate his midnight meal with a cup of orange juice.

After eating, Roman showed us to our room that we would be staying in.

This whole experience with Theo reminded me of when Mom and I used to make breakfast together in the mornings for everyone. It was my favorite thing to do every morning.

I miss her so much. Sometimes, I feel like that helpless little girl who couldn't save her mother's life.

Every year, when her death anniversary comes around, I always think about all the times I failed her and the times I missed her.

Her death anniversary is in two days. I always lock myself in my room for a few days and not make contact with anyone.

It's partly because of my nightmares that don't want to leave me alone and also because I don't want to be around anyone.

Every night, I try to fall asleep, but I vividly see her dead face. It haunts me. Like she hates me for not being able to save her.

I am so sorry Mom. I couldn't save you. I am so sorry. But don't worry I will get revenge for all the torture and abuse that you had to endure. I will avenge your death.

.......

It's the next morning, and I don't feel like getting out of bed at all.

Last night, I had the same reoccurring nightmare that I had since the day she died.

It was her getting beaten to a pulp and killed. Lying in my arms, covered in blood. Her blood was on my hands.

Nevan, standing over me, drenched in her blood, laughing at the scene before him. Like, he was taunting me and making fun of my dead mother, whom he killed.

And then the worst part of it all is...It happens over and over again. It haunts me, and it will haunt me every single day for the rest of my life.

I hate it. I hate it with every fiber in my body.

A part of me wants to forget that part of my memory, but the other part of me feels like I deserve to remember the horrors since it is my fault.

I turned around to the window and watched the raindrops slide down the window. The pitter-patter sound of the rain falling on the roof gives a sense of calm and peace.

I pull the blanket up to my head and let my tears break free from their prison.

Sometimes, the best thing you can do is, cry it out. You may feel weak at the moment, but it will only make you stronger for what's to come.

Pain makes you stronger than you ever were before. Always remind yourself of that.