My psycho side

Mom

         I came from school and heard a noise from the basement. I rush down the dark staircase. I've always dreaded this place. I am nyctophobic. In other words, I've a fear of darkness.

        My whole body was shaking, I was sweating and my heart beat rose beyond any kind of heartbeat.  At least that's what I think. I don't even know why I am going down the stairs when am scared of the dark.

        "Let go of me." I heard my mom yell and I ran the remaining stairs to the basement. I found dad trying to strangle mom. I ran to him and hit his back continuously so he would let go but he was too strong.

       He just pushed me off his back and I fell down hitting my head on a pile of metallic boxes. I've never noticed them here. Well how could I when I never ever stepped in this basement.

        I saw mom trying to reach for something and when I followed her hand movement, I was shocked to my wits.

       A gun. I've only been able to see that on TV, and now there's one laying right in front of me.

       "Go upstairs baby. Please." My mom pleaded as she continued to struggle to reach for the gun. Dad just stayed on top of her putting her in place.

         Honestly, this is my life. My parents are always fighting. Ever since I was six, there hasn't been a day I've not seen them on each other's throats. Dad keeps beating mom over the smallest of things.

         I've never witnessed them share a kiss or hug like all my friend's parents do. We have never gone out on a family outing like other normal families. All I know is to shut myself up in my room and rise the volume of the TV so I can't hear all the noise that comes with their daily fights.

         Mom told me earlier today before I went to school that she would pick me up from school and we would go far away from here. I was happy that we would be far away from dad and this city that I've grown to hate.

       My eyes became blurry because of the tears that were approaching. I didn't want to cry anymore. I stood up and picked up a mop from the boxes. I know it won't help that much but I can try.

       I walked up to my dad and hit his head with the mop with all my strength.  That gave mom a chance to free herself and dad turned to me. He slapped me really hard I could only hear a ringing sound. I felt dizzy and took a few steps back.

       "If you touch my child one more time I'll fucking kill you." Mom yelled and dad just smirked. A sinister smirk.

        "Go ahead Immy. I want to see you try. Pull the darm trigger." He looked at me and back at mom, his sinister smile widening.

       I looked at mom and I saw her eyes pool with tears. I am her weakness. Fuck I hate this. She doesn't have to be this weak.

       "What now Immy? Can't do it in front of your princess huh?" Dad's just playing with her head.

       "Mom, don't worry about me. Just shoot this bastard." I yelled and she looked at me with an apologetic look. No mom. Fucking don't.

        Dad uses this chance and grabs the gun from mom's grip.

        "How many times Immy? Huh? How many fucking times have I told you that emotions are your weakness. You can't defeat me with this pathetic look. You make me sick."

        The only thing I hear is my mom's lifeless body falling to the ground. He shot her. He fucking shot my mom. I run to my mom's body and try to get her to wake up even though I know it's useless.

       "Mom no, you can't leave me like this. You have no right to leave me mooooommmm."

        I shout not caring about all the noise am making. All I want is for my mom to open her eyes and call me her baby like she always did. Dad dragged my body up to the house and locked me in my room. I banged the door so he could open it but he wouldn't. He left me there for about two days with no water or food and I really didn't care.

       I was thankful he left me all alone cause I didn't want to see his face. I used this time to mourn my mom. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. In all my ten years of living, she protected me from my dad.

      I tried killing myself with anything I could find cause I had no other reason to live. I only tolerated my dad for my mom's sake but now that she's gone, I've no reason to stay.

     I broke the mirror in the bathroom with a chair and got a piece of the broken ones and cut through my wrist. I felt relieved as I watched the blood flow out of my body. The immense pain I feel gives me some kind of thrill. I don't know why but this feeling started when I was seven.

      I fought with one of the boys at the school garden and I hurt him really bad but I didn't feel guilty. It was quite the opposite. I was happy.

        I heard my door bust open and in came my dad. The monster as my mom always termed him. I guess he heard the sound of the mirror breaking and came to see what happened.

        Does he even care? I fall down to the ground feeling my body numb. Am exhausted. I close my eyes just imaging my mom's beautiful face. That's the last thing I remember.