Our Way Through The Dark

Chapter 15

Before we start... does that gif work, i'm mad dumb and i don't know. :)

Your greatest enemy is always a person you think. An friend, someone you hate or even a stranger. The truth is your enemy is yourself. No matter what or how the world makes it seem you find yourself always hoping for something you know can never happen. I always found myself dreaming, sleeping and closing my eyes and imagining things that weren't possible for my small self. I wanted a life that would benefit Bria and I, a life where we could have money and she'll go to school without having to come home and see her sister taking the bruises that were meant for her, or a life where mother and father loved us and cherished us.

But that's not reality.

Reality is a fucked up world with a fucked up system who brain washes u too believe the laws they planted in the system. It's a fucked up world where people don't give a shit about anyone but themselves unless they get money. Parents don't realize that their kid in the next room is suffering because they never find the need to ask, they pry on the things that don't matter, they don't give a shit about the mental health they put their kid in and when they find out it's to late to ask because their kid is now gone.

Taken from the world.

They wonder why? why did my kid do this? why didn't my kid come to me? why would my kid leave me? But it's too late to ask any of those questions because they never looked at the messages their kid gave them. The green light flashed red before their eyes and they wouldn't look up to realize that the car is still driving about to hit the end of the cliff. They didn't find the means to come in and be the figures we needed. To show love, compassion, to hug us close and tell us that, 'it's okay.' that, 'whatever happens i'll love u forever.' words that needed to be said but they never said them.

Now they left us alone and broken not knowing the difference between love and attack mode. Attack to survive, fight no matter what means are necessary, to leave your kid weak and hopeless because of the things they chose.

My mother let the men she brought in the house abuse and rape me.

When she came home one day and found the man she was with the night before on top of me, cry's leaving my lips and tears stained my cheeks she didn't come running and helping she stood in the door way with wide eyes watching the scene in front of her. The daughter she raised being brutally raped in front of her eyes, on her knees, hands behind her back in cuffs and a sock between her mouth to quiet the sound; the man she brought into the house behind the daughters back grunting with his eyes rolled back enjoying what's happening while he smacked the daughters ass.

My mother yelled at the man but you think she helped the daughter out? no. She did the complete opposite, screamed at the daughter called her a, 'slut.' an, 'whore.' beat the daughter and locked the daughter in her closet and didn't feed her for 2 days. When I was allowed out my room to finally see Bria the man was back in the house a week later. I never left my room for that week. Bria came in and tried to make me eat but the food never stayed down because of the flash backs. I was reliving the memories in my head torturing myself.

Three times it happened, my mother only saw once out of the three and I blamed myself. I always thought I did something to bring these men to me, maybe it was my fault, maybe I allowed these men to fuck me and hit me because I was to weak to fight back. After each one left me bleeding and left me crying. Bria always found me staring at myself in the mirror in the room and it got bad to the point where she painted the mirror white. I didn't talk for a whole month, I didn't eat for 2 weeks. I scared Bria and she always begged mother to help me but mother was alway to high to even care.

Now I realized that i'll always be back in the room starring at the painted white mirror.

Grey is my favorite color because it's empty. To make grey you need black and white, and everyone looks at the color white and thinks, "Angel." when you think angel you think happiness and joy but that's not true. White is pain hiding behind the joyful act and nobody ever notices the pain it goes through. When you think of black you think, "Fear." but black is just a color that's never actually there, you close your eyes and black is what takes your vision but you never see anything. It's a shadow that no one notices. Now when you add a little white to black you get grey, a color that meets the middle calm, gentle and a little light but when you look into it you find that it means more than it lets on.