Finding freedom

Chapter 2

This chapter is gonna go a lil bit into depth about her past ;))

I don't like thinking about my past. I realized at a pretty young age that my parents didn't love me like they should've. I remember the time where all the kids in my class were talking about their endless amount of Christmas gifts, and that was when I realized that I should've gotten more than a beating and mean words.

The lack of love from my mom hurt but nothing could've cut deeper than realizing I wasn't my dad's happiness anymore. Knowing he doesn't love me cuts deeper than any knife ever could. It has the ability to pierce deep into the bone while lacking any sense of compassion. Victims are unaware of its bitter attack. They dream about finding safety in the arms of another. It becomes a search for a distraction to counteract the iciness of the numbing air.

Sometimes it scares me what lengths I would go to feel his love again. He was a blanket of tranquility, the sound-absorbing silence of snowfall making peace in a storm, and the ticklish thrill in the core of your stomach when a wave lifts your feet off the ocean floor. I would choose to stand in the warmth of sunlight next to him and burn every day than to live in frigid darkness without his hugs.

Or at least that's what I thought when I was 8

I hate the power that anger has over me. The fact that it controls so much of my feelings towards my father.

Anger is an emotion that destroys everything. It shows no mercy. It ruins everything with just the touch of its fingertips. It could turn the bluest sky black and turn a field of flowers into nothing but ashes and smoke. Anger doesn't feel the need to tread carefully around someone, only jumping in to say a few words then leave and hope that all was forgiven. No... that's not what anger does at all. It destroys, scorches, burns everything in its path, and leaves without any regrets. Anger haunts you...teases you as if it's saying 'I'm always here. You can't escape me.' Relationships and friendships have all at some point fallen into the dark hole that is anger, and some have barely made it out alive.

I'm angry that my father hasn't said he loves me since I was 8. I'm angry that he lied about me always being his little girl. But most of all I'm angry that I still love him. I'm angry that I find myself dreaming about our happy memories together.

His smell

His smile

His laugh

Their drives in his car

How his hand would fit in hers

His love

I often found myself dreaming about a better future. A happier time. Maybe spring? The season of spring is the time of year when the cold begins to thaw out and the sun returns to its rightful place. The cold, bitter winter air does not last forever. Instead, the sun replaces the gloomy, dark clouds and the warm breeze kisses the numb cheeks of those who roam about. Flowers begin to take their place amongst the dirt. Birds return from the south and sing joyous songs throughout the city. It is during the spring season that people are awakened from their dark corners. It is during these days in April that the grass looks a little greener, the sky is a little bluer, and the people are a little happier.

That sounds nice I think to myself while sitting on a bench reminiscing my old thoughts and dreams.

I decided to take a little break from walking towards the motel. Apparently, it wasn't as close as the rude lady made me think.

Every time I say apparently, I think of the apparently kid that was on the Ellen show. I love that kid. I wonder where he is now.

I should probably start walking again before it gets dark...

After another 20 minutes of walking, I finally make my destination.

As I'm standing Infront of the very depressing-looking building I feel hope. I walk towards the door that looks like it's a second from falling apart and pull it open. On the inside stands a woman with blonde pulled-up hair behind a desk. I'm not even going to guess if she's nice or not because obviously, my judgment has been off these last few days.

"Hi, do you have an available room," I ask her with a sweet smile on my lips. She looks up and gets what looks like a genuine smile on her lips. I exhale in relief from finally finding a nice person.

"Yes sweetie of course we do" she starts clicking some buttons on her computer. That machine looks fancy. "How many nights would you be staying?"

"Oh, uhm as many as possible honestly," I say sheepishly being a bit embarrassed by my situation. She lets out a quick laugh "oh honey this is a small town and honestly, no one really comes in here so you can stay as long as you want honey."

I want to cry from happiness and relief at this moment. "Thank you so much..." I pause looking down at her name tag "Pam. Thank you so much Pam you just made my day."

"of course, sweetie," she says smiling while handing me a key. "Just go up those stairs and find your room number." I take the key out of her hand and quickly run up the stairs while clutching my backpack straps in my hands.

I walk in the hall looking for number 19 and smiling when I find it. I unlock the door and walk towards the bed throwing myself on it and letting out a big exhale. I open my eyes and for the first time take in the room. It's very small with a small kitchen right across from the queen-sized bed. To my left is a bathroom with a shower and a toilet. Lonely. The walls that make up my room can only be described as lonely but for the first time in years, I feel at peace. Complete peace. It feels as if all my problems have washed away, all of my stress has been knocked down to the ground. I have this safe feeling that everything is going to be fine.

I really hope I'm going to make some friends in school since I've never really had any friends. Maybe I'll be loved. I would really like to find out what love is since I have never been shown, true love.

My father taught me that love was shown through violence. He would hurt me, so I did everything he said. My mother taught me that love meant hiding how I felt. I could never express my emotions. In fact, I never learned how.

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to stroll in the mind of a person that has never been hurt. I wonder when I see people walking past me smiling on the street if their minds are plagued with the same anxiety and self-loathing. Perhaps this is how everyone feels, and I am not as emotionally damaged as I claim because I truly don't remember what it's like to be okay.

My mind is plagued and riddled with parasites. They find their way into the creases and crevices and every inch of my brain. Like worms the soft earth wears. Thriving off my innermost flesh, encased at the core entering and burrowing increasingly after more until all my seeds decompose with no prospect left for growth. And with everyone else around me, I can't help but think that this rotten apple couldn't have fallen so far from the tree.

When I was little my heart was pure and it sang a song that was as bright as the sun. but now my heart only seems to sing the saddest of songs. I try my hardest to be positive but it's hard when all you want to do is let your mind drown in your problems.

I fall asleep that night feeling safe for the first time in years. I feel safe. I think I'll be okay in the end. 

This chapter is kinda short but don't worry the next chapter you will be introduced to the rest of the characters. I don't know if this chapter sucks or not but whatever. Thank you so much if you're reading!