Abused Memory

Prologue

                  

1991, May 27

"Stop! Please!" I wailed. But they didn't listen. Stare. Flinch. Pain. These are my steps to life. I stared at my dad, Eyebrows facing towards each other, Evil eyes that stare into one's soul. A smile. A smile that light up a thousand buildings in the blackness of the night. Except for One thing. This look, this smile, his face, is all evil. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the impact to sting. Pain flowing through my body like my dad and mom trade whip every time on another thrashes at me with all their might. My mom has the whip. Her eyes fill with satisfaction, every thrash of the whip hitting the skin. Tears roll down my face and into my mouth. I start screaming and the whip comes down harder each time. WHACK! My Left eye. I can't see.  Did they smack my eye, because of my crying? Just because they are experimenting the pain in different places they hit? Because they are my parents. I clench my self in a ball even tighter. Preparing. Nothing comes. No whip, not pain, no laughter of parents. Only silence. A tree branch is banging on the window. They stopped because of the branch. Anything that sounds like Knocking, footsteps, car doors they stop and shove me in the closet. This Time, I had time. I look at my stomach and my legs. Bloody and Bruised. Black, Purple, Blue. Red. Red running down my leg, down to my knee, ankle, foot, carpet. Down to the bright pink spot on the carpet where the blood flowed and stained for years. My mat also getting lighter and redder. I have special everything for beating time. My black mat, so you can't see the blood. A raggedly cut, what now is called a belly shirt and shorts. Short Shorts.

No matter the pain I get up and start to run towards the door when I feel a sharp sting in my back. I fall and groan in pain, I start to crawl, my only way to freedom.

My mom's phone is on the couch. I grab it. Open the door. And run. Run to stay alive. Run to live a better life. Run for freedom. Run for me.

My parents, slow. Me, the flash. I sprint to a tree and climb, climb, climb until I'm sitting on a branch, out of breath and weeping in pain. I see something that looks like a street sign but I also see figures walking slowly, like a cat getting ready to pounce on its prey. I need to call 911 and Child services but they are too close, they would see the light from the phone. They called my name in a creepy baby voice. Like I'm stupid enough to come to them. I think fast after mumbling from the shadows stop talking and their phone turns on, I turn any possible sound making causes and turn the brightness all the way down. The phone vibrates and I hold it close to my stomach so it won't make as much sound. It hurt. But if it means living through the night, I will do whatever it takes. My parents, start to get aggravated. Punch. Balance. PUnch. BAlance. PUNch. BALance. My parents are punching the tree; as they know I'm in there. I will never make it out, I told myself. I will never escape. Tears start to fall, down the tree and on to the shadow. THE SHADOW. They are gonna find me. Kill me. Beat me. Beat me so hard that life will drain out of me in a matter of seconds. I hear a chuckle. My mom. She can't climb a tree. I can't get down. I look at the phone and turn the flashlight on and yell "DIE!" She groans and covers her eyes. I climb branches to find the lowest, drooping one. I find on that looks like it's rotting, I quickly slide down it. Run. RUn. RUN. I told myself. RUn and never look back. So I did.