A broken world

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«M...mom...» My pleading voice was a broken thing. It was a pure reflection of my eyes, my heart, my soul.

I stared at the hate filled woman before me, and flinched back as she moved her hands to close the maroon robe that had come undone by the frenzied movements of her second punishing slap.

«Dont call me that!» Her words were like needles poking at my skin, digging harshly into the soft flesh as they injected their venom.

«B.. B.. But...» My bottom lip quivered, but she cut me off with another onslaught of her ruthless words before I could continue.

«How dare you even try to call me that, after all that you...» Her enraged piercing shrieks were cut short by my fathers arms as they slipped around her frail waist from behind. His embrace was like a pillow muffling her words before they got a chance to escape from her ugly twisted mouth.


«Iris!» My name as it fell from his lips held so many emotions, so many questions. It was almost like a wall erected itself between us with everything that the single lone word contained.

I watched as my mother broke apart, the strength of my fathers presence finally allowing her to be weak, as he took up the task of becoming her pillar, her strength, her support. She twisted around in his arms, and wailed into his chest. Her muted sobs breaking my heart further.

I'm sorry..

"Dad.." I breathed the word, not really knowing how to start, or what to say. I wanted to say so much, but found that I could say so little. My throat clamped up as I stared up at my father, not sure how to even begin to climb the wall that had formed itself between us.


He shuffled back, his grip holding on tightly to the trembling form of my mother, as he moved them both to make room for me to enter into their home. Their home, not my home anymore. The words were never uttered, but I could still feel them linger in the thick air between us.

"You better come inside Iris, there is no reason to give the neighbors any more fodder than they already have..." His voice trailed off, and the endearments left unsaid screamed loudly in my ears. No sweetheart, no little flower, no sunshine, just Iris. I was just Iris to him now, and that single notion stung more than the palm of my mothers cold manicured hand.

I swallowed hard, and followed them into the living room, careful to close and lock the door securely behind me.

Not that a locked door ever stopped him...


I sunk down into the comfy couch across from my parents, my nose wrinkling slightly in disgust at the smell of sweat that surrounded me, it clung to me like a second skin. I felt God damned awful.

I stink..

"Where were you?" My mother had notably calmed down. She stared at me with red rimmed eyes as she delivered her soft spoken question, which her tone of voice turned into what it really was, an accusation.

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