Your Forgotten

• vi •

11:59pm

Friday, 26th of May 2017.

✺

To the woman who birthed me,

A note on my table this morning explained the reason for your aggression last night.

Your husband will be back by next week and you want me on my best behavior. As usual, you want me to lay low, do as I'm told, act as invincible as possible so we don't have to cross paths.

The whole thing is just as funny as it is disgusting.

Three humans living in a place they all call home and yet trying to avoid each other as much they can.

Everyone's absorbed in their own problems, enjoying conversations with their personal demons rather than family, fighting different wars behind closed doors.

Back in school I was always busy with homework, tests or simply just looking for trouble. The heaviness was always at the back of my mind but I could act like it's not even there and just forget you and everyone else.

But now I'm back home to you and that man and this dark house filled with echoes. The loneliness has never felt more suffocating.

You said I can't go out so no one will know that I've been sent away from school but I'm tired ma.

I need to breathe.

I don't want to cry anymore but there's nothing to keep my mind off everything. You think giving me the internet will suddenly make me happy?

You don't understand!

You never understand, you don't even want to listen. I'm tired of waiting for you to realize that you can't mould me into a porcelain doll.

I'm tired of trying to please you 'cause you're never satisfied.

I'm tired of staying quiet and strong while my soul is screaming for help, it's so hard to stand up straight anymore.

I'm tired of wetting papers every night with ink and tears, hoping you might see it one day.

Life isn't a fairytale or musical and I'm not Cinderella. At least she had rats to keep her company.

Today I was tired and choking and I needed air.

Like you said, I've already brought you shame and disgrace.

So a little disobedience won't hurt anyone.

I left the house this evening and took a stroll. No one came at me with pitchforks and knives because I was expelled.

Surprise, surprise.

Walking didn't help so I decided to put a recurring thought to action.

I bought a pack of cigarettes and sat in that dark alley behind the house, and for the first time in a long while.

I felt lighter.

Your Forgotten,
Mola.