The Want To Hate You

Chapter 6

English is dragging longer than usual today, and it's the last lesson.

"... extended metaphor. Now this poem is one that really hits home. That is because it can be interpreted in different forms however the poet was specific with her mean.

With the analysis that we've done, who can explain to me why the Caged Bird's song is fearful?"

Maya Angelou was is her element when she wrote the poem Caged Bird. It's become one of my favourite pieces by her.

"Ahh, let's hear from new voices. How about Mr King?" Mrs J asks.

"I think that the bird is afraid to fail." His deep voice says. Sending chills down my back. I command you to stop that now!

Oh sis, you know you like it.

"Hmm? Explain that please Mr King." She pushes.

"The bird longs for freedom, but it is afraid to fail. There are so many opportunities that come with freedom that success is just as easy as failure. I think the bird knows that. With great power comes great responsibility, the bird is afraid that it is the one choosing its fate and might be the cause of it's own failure." He says.

I think that's a great way to view it but really?A qoute from Spiderman?

"What do you think Miss Cooper?"

Shock pulses through my veins as the possibility of fumbling through my words and saying the wrong thing goes through my head.

You're overthinking this Marcy, just talk.

"He's right, the bird is afraid. I agree with the part about failure. The bird is afraid of failure because it does not know what is out there.

Keep in mind that this bird has been caged its entire life, and the generations before him were caged as well.

He doesnt know what is out there, nobody does. No one at arms length knows enough to educate him about it. He longs to be out there and be free but is scared .

What kinds of things are out there? What could they do to me? How will I escape them? All of those are the questions going on in the bird's mind.

A fear of the unknown. But sometimes when you cage a beast, the beast becomes angry which is why the caged bird is angry is the next line" I say, finishing by adding a quote from X-men.

Mrs J looks like she is about to burst into tears.

"Beautiful answers from you both. Ladies and gentlemen please find the contextual questions on the poem on page 64 and be sure to have it done. I expect such answers."

The bell rings. Everyone quickly piles out. I sit packing my stuff as slowly as possible. Hoping that when I get home, things will be peaceful.

"X-man?" A voice says from behind me. The voice sends chills down my spine.

"Spiderman?" I respond.

I turn around and find his hard grey eyes.

"He's a smart guy." He says.

"So am I. " I respond hoping that it's the end of the conversation.

"You're a smart guy?" He asks.

"If you will." I say, grabbing my bag and walking out.

The clouds have gathered in their grayness. It looks like it's about to drizzle. Well then just my luck.

I hold my backpack tight and I begin running home.

My boots against the pavement find my house. I burst into the house and rush up to my room.

Feeling a little triumphant that it just started raining hard now and not while I was on my way here.

I neatly put my bag on the shelve and my boots by the door.

My room is so neat,  you'd think that it's not part of the rest of the house.

I'm so busy tidying up that I dont hear someone walk in.

It's when I hear my name being harshly called that I turn around in fright.

Its Elliot . His eyes stare at my body. I gulp heavily. Shit.

I didnt lock the goddamn door.

He snarls before pushing forward. Each step he takes sinks my stomach lower into my ass. The reality of what is about to happen bitch slapping me right on my face.

The rain taps on my window.

I have no escape. I know that. My eyes find a picture of my dad and I and my eyes never leave it.

His hands find the hem of my shirt. He pushes kisses on my neck. Everything in me  is tenses.

He us heavily scented with sweat and alcohol. It makes me want to throw up.

Tears brim my eyes, but I've learned through that years that tears dont help anything.

"Take off your clothes." He instructs.

I try not to sob, I pull the top off and my pants.

I turn to find that he is already naked. He pushes me down to the bed and tears my underwear off.

I'm old enough to understand that no one is ever going to burst through these doors and save me.

I feel him enter. It's a really sickening that a man in his forties could do this to a seventeen year old. 

His grunts push tears out of my eyes. He is enjoying himself.

It amazes me, the amount of practise its taken me to not sob at all. All his movement brings me closer to my breaking point. My mother lets this happen to me.

He spanks me. The gesture has more tears falling from my eyes. Each stroke brings him closer to his finish.

This bastard finally finishes. Grunted as he spills himself on my floor.

He says some stuff that my ears are too blocked to hear.

"I'll be back for more later." He adds to whatever he was saying.

I lay on the bed. Barely able to bat a single lash. I feel dirty. I am dirty.

He's ruined me, and doesnt mind reminding me each time.

I still feel his arms lingering on my body.