Long Nights

I fell asleep happy tonight- both rare things in themselves, my sleeping and my actual happiness.
Granted it didn't last long- I woke at almost two am, my heart pounding. Im still shaking, still fighting the urge to scream. God, so scared. Im a p*ssy when it comes to being scared. I'm Crying freely, quietly though, my brother in the next room needs his sleep. Normally, I'd be cutting in a futile attempt to hold myself- no one here can hold me. No one has ever held me, when in reality that's all I've ever wanted. I've never felt safe in my home, and most consider a home "the safe haven*. When, in reality, I'm so terrified to be here. I've actually never felt safe, all my life. I pull off a "tough" facade but it's so easily shattered in the waning morning hours. Ive always wanted someone who could make me feel safe, wrap me in their arms like a loved child, promise me it's gonna be okay. And i want to be able to believe them, to trust them. But I don't ever see that happening.

I'm talking to a friend but I feel horrible about keeping Him up.
It was the normal nightmare- same movie, different theatre. Every time, the room changes but the screams never change.
My siblings and I, still kids, but with our maturity, you wouldn't realise. My brother laughing, his high pitched, prepubescent laugh something done only in the absence of my father. Of course, my father isn't absent in this nightmare- that'd be Bambi without deer.
And the laughing escalates into a playful debate, voices high and happy, like normal children.
And there he is, his eyes flaming with hate. My father's eyes still haunt me in my sleep. His teeth are bared, his voice thunderous. His grammar became more erratic the angrier he got. And that's when he stepped forward, grabbing the cord to the vaccun cleaner, the one I'd been using prior to this, to please him, and he blows his top.
The first lash lands square across my face. I scream, tasting blood. The second catches my chest hard. Then he switches, to my 8 yo brother, beating him with a ferocity I cant describe. And my brothers only crime? Laughing.
My brother is screaming now instead, blood flowing down his body. My dads clipped his ear quite painfully even though he knows that my brother can't be roughly handled without going blind or worse.
Then he moves to my two sisters, raining down on them like a monsoon,
"Please, no, it was me, I set them off. Please stop Daddy, it was my fault" I beg and plead with him, salty tears burning the fresh cuts across my face.
He cant hear me over my sisters' heatbreaking screams.
So I try my damndest to protect them, standing between them and my father. But to no avail- he will, I know from experience, continue to beat me until I fall, blood pouring from my body, and then move on to my siblings.
And theyre screaming, bloody and mangled. And my father is grinning, happy with his handiwork. But although pleased, he doesn't stop there. We've all fallen, crumbling against each other, trying to hide our bodies from the blows. Our blood and tears have mixed and each scream is the same- they all break my heart and echo to forever haunt me.
and then I wake, sweat dripping from my skin. And I break down into tears, wanting to scream in fear but knowing I can't. My hands itch for my knives- the only sure way to stop the pain. But, I was bound by my word, I couldn't cut.
And this is why, I hate sleep. Why I hate my house, my father. Why I hate sleep and I hate these early morning hours.
deleted deleted
1 Response May 7, 2012

I'm so sorry for you... I may have had bad luck with fosterparents... but to be honest I can't imagene how much worse it must be if the ones who yust want to hurt you actually are the ones suposed to love you unconditionaly