Tear in My Heart

She's the tear in my heart

----------- trigger warning; abuse -------------

When I entered the house I was only greeted with my father yelling at me, "Where the hell were you Lennox? You can't just up and leave for a weekend. What the hell were we supposed to do?" 

My mother just sitting in the corner at the dinner table.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I -"

"Yeah you weren't thinking. Do you realize what you've done? You didn't finish your shit here before you left and now everything more of a mess" he says grabbing me. I try to break free but his grasp is too tight around my arm. "You are useless. The only thing you're good for is your money but your mother got a call from your boss. You weren't answering so they called us. You got yourself fired? Again? You literally can't even keep a job. What a failure. Piece of garbage."

"I lost my job because you wanted me here cleaning the house all last week. I left during my days off. Now let go of me." I say fighting back. It was a mistake. I knew it was but I couldn't stop myself from saying it. It was true now wasn't it? He made me stay home to be his little maid, housekeeper, whatever you wanna call it but was mad that I lost my job because of it?

He smacks me across the face. I wasn't expecting it. The force threw me down to the ground. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. The next part was as if it were in slow motion and I was an audience member witnessing this horrid movie.

"You're gonna try to blame me for this? Well if you could learn how to get off your fat ass and do something for once maybe we wouldn't be in this situation now would we?" he screams in my face. He's intimidating me. Pushing me into a corner as I'm still on the floor. I'm curled up as he towers over me. I look to my mom for help but she does nothing, just looks away and pretends that the world we are living in isn't real. I would too Mom, I would too. But I'm the kid in this 'family' dynamic. You aren't.

He starts to kick me. I'm crying. I can feel the breath being forcibly pushed out of my lungs. I feel like I'm suffocating. The world is slightly dizzy all of a sudden and I can only see his shoes as they retract from my stomach and get enough strength to hit my stomach like he was aiming a soccer ball into the winning goal.

I feel a tear trickle out of my left eye. I had been trying so hard to hold them back but the dam broke free in front of him. It only fuels him more to see me weak. In my house feelings aren't allowed. They show weakness, and a tear was like a neon sign that told cops where a hidden wanted man was. To him, it was more proof, it was as if I was asking for more to happen. Tears were inviting to him. They didn't push him away.

"Quit crying you little baby. You think you're gonna get far in life acting like a child? This is the real world now. You're in the real world." He spits in my face as he grabs my throat. His hand is inching around my neck and slowly crunching itself together.

 I don't know how we escalated to this point but my mom starts to shout his name telling him "stop" and "you're hurting her" but he just smiles as if to say "good". I grab at his hand hoping that the little strength still in me was strong enough to break his grip. I kick the air as if I'm a wrestler and this is my only way to tap out. For some god forsaken reason he finally breaks free. Maybe my face went purple again. That's usually his stopping point, or just before it'll leave a mark. He's always known how to do all these things without leaving any evidence that will last more than a matter of minutes but today I'm unsure if that will be the case.

I grab my bag that was still in the front doorway and run up the stairs to my room, tripping over my own feet in the process but making sure I won't fall until I get to my room. Once the door is shut and locked, I collapse against it. I know it wouldn't stop it but my brain still hopes that if he were to try to come into my room right now, the lock or my bodyweight against the door would hold him back. However, from past experiences and the knowledge that he has a key hidden in the house that unlocks my door, I know thats not the case.

I still can't catch my breath. I find a panic attack arising within me. It was a mix of already being suffocated and being triggered but it just feels like his hand is right around my throat again. I try to calm my breathing but I'm still in the midst of a breakdown and many tears that are coating my face with mascara. I catch a glimpse at myself in the mirror across the room and see the mess that I am. I want to look away but I don't even recognize the girl staring back at me. She looks scared with a handprint temporarily branded to her face and neck, hair that belongs in a raccoon's nest. I want to scream. This isn't me. This can't be my life. I ache, I hurt, I don't want to believe that I let this happen to me.

I want to forget the day I'm living and go to bed, even though I know I won't sleep. I never do. I look at the clock and it says 7:35, early - but not the earliest I've locked myself in my room for the night. I try to pick myself up to at least move to the bed but my stomach is churning. I'm trying my hardest not to scream in pain as I move myself back to the floor knowing that tonight I probably won't make it to my bed, when my phone lights up...

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