The Evolution of Dakota Graves

Grief Is A Understatement

I sat there in the kitchen, twiddling my thumbs, I look down at my switchblade....if only there was something else that would take the pain away besides cancer sticks...

I'm going insane....I know it....the worse part is....I have to live knowing I lost everything, Hannah, my friends, hell, even myself.

Madness? Hell yeah.

I slowly get up, opening the closet, pulling out a bat.

All I see is red.

I scream, hitting everything I see, fragile plates and bowls, I keep hitting everything.

"Fuck!!!" I scream, I could care less who heard. I'm just a downright failure. I can't calm down. I couldn't....I can't....not now.

I drop to my knees, over the shattered plates and spilled silverware, tears were urging to come out but I couldn't.....I bang my fists against the floor. Throwing a tantrum like a pathetic baby.

Man up.

I lie on my back. Dad would always tell me to man up whenever I'm like this, but he never did much for me, I was the one cooking cleaning, managing bills and making sure Hannah was happy.

My thoughts go back on that day when Hannah was only a little girl.

I stood there with a bruised eye, tear stained face and my Dad...was drinking heavily again.

He told me this would make me tougher, be more of a man...but whenever I'd resist it, he'd try and fight me anyway. I couldn't pity him even if I wanted to.

"Put your fists up and fight." He barks.

"I don't want to." I said, he clocks me upside the head.

"There's gonna be things you don't want to do starting now, put your fucking fists up and stop being a bitch!" He yelled, I slightly put my fists, he punches my in the stomach.

"Fight me!" He bellowed as he punched me again and again until I had enough.

I grit my teeth, throwing the hardest punch in his cheek, he laughed.

"That all you got? This world is gonna eat you up." He said, he kicked me, causing me to go on the floor.

"You're just like your mother, you're weak. I should've let her take the stupid pill." He muttered, as he acted like he kicked me.

"Some day Dakota, someday you'll become ruthless, nuclear, a fucking psychopath, and I'll watch. Because when I was a kid, your grandfather beat me to a bloody pulp, putting me into a four month coma. This is what makes you a fuckin' man." He spat.

I wish I would've told him how wrong he was. If I had a son, not a chance in hell would I pass on this sick, fucked up tradition.

When Hannah saw me, she cried so bad, Dad kept yelling at her to shut up, she couldn't stand seeing bruises on my face.

I open my eyes, standing up slowly, I walk down the hall and upstairs, hearing the wood creak beneath my feet. I walk down the hallway.

"I'm done. I just want to punch something." I muttered to myself.

I turn around to see Hannah wearing a pink and white dress with her hair put in two buns. I stood there, covered in blood as she hugged me.

"It'll be okay Kota." She reassures me.

I reach out to see if she's real....but she vanishes, I know I'm going crazy. I grab the bat, swinging wildly at the mirror.

We'll be fine without you.

Those fucking words...from my own mother's mouth stung like venom.

You were broken the day you were conceived.

As the glass shatters I drop the bat.

"I just need sleep....I'm going crazy here....I'll leave in the morning." I mumble, I lie in the bed, I never viewed sleep like this, this was the only escape from being in reality, I roll onto my side to see Hannah again, her hair was braided to the side, she wore her pink pajamas and she was asleep.

I know she's not real...but it's better to pretend....

"Goodnight Hannah." I mumble before closing my eyes, she moves a strand of hair from my face.

She isn't there.

I laid there on the couch, a gun in my hands, I slowly lifted the gun to my temple, the door locked and I just stared at my reflection. The doornob twisted, I winced, the door opened and Hannah walked in.

"You have no idea how scared I was." She said, her voice trembled.

"You have no idea how it feels to be me." I shot back, she looked down in my hand.

"Dakota...." She said.

I looked down at the ground, she slowly took it from my hand, then she slapped me hard in the face. My head snapped to the side.

"How could you?" She asked.

There was a long silence, but the silence was all Hannah needed to know.

"If you're sad, talk to me, even if I can't cheer you up I'd cry with you. If you're frustrated, talk to me, I may not be able to relieve your stress but I'd stay here all day ranting and raving with you." Hannah said with a warm smile, I drop the gun as she hugged my waist.

"If you don't think you're loved, talk to me, I may not be able gather everyone you love, but I'd know one thing, I love you, not just because you're my brother, but you make me happy, even though you don't love yourself, people still love you." Hannah said.

All of a sudden, I can't breathe, I open my eyes to see the man who dragged my sister and I into this. Who I thought burned with everyone else in the fire I caused.

Daxton, fucking Daxton.