Achilles Heel |h.s|

44. Astar - Erasure of the Past

Warnings: This chapter will feature mentions of physical/mental/sexual abuse, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of suicidal ideation and mentions of murder. If any of those topics are too much, there will be a brief overview at the end of the chapter. It will detail what's important and there will be a list of helplines for various different things. If you or someone you love is being abused, please don't hesitate to reach out for help.

There will be a warning before every possible trigger.

Endless love for everyone.

B. x

March 10th, 2003.

14:24

(Astar is five years old here. She is three years older than Kaia.)

My hands come to rest over my small ears as the yelling grows louder and louder, something that has come to be normal inside these four walls. I never understood why his go-to mood is anger. I've always been a good girl. I go to bed on time, I do my homework, I grab his adult beverage from the fridge like he asks and even bring him his snacks.

As the screaming gets louder and louder, so do the sounds of Kaia's screams from her room. I force myself to come out of my hiding spot, starting the short run to her nursery. Upon arriving, I flick on the light and make my way over to the crib before I pick her up. She's only two and they're always screaming far too much to notice when one of us needs help.

I make sure the light is off so neither of them finds us here before I make my way over to the closet and keep the door slightly ajar. With that, I take my seat in the furthest part of the closet. I bring Kaia close to my chest, rocking her small frame in my arms while singing the only nursery rhyme that I have memorised.

My voice slightly shakes as I sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

Mum used to sing it to me all the time. Sometimes she still does, if he hasn't put her in a sour mood.

Mum's always kind. Kind touch. Kind words. Soft words.

He's always angry. Angry words. Angry touch.

Kaia's cries soon become nonexistent and judging by her breathing, she's fallen asleep. I peek my head out of the closet, making sure the coast is clear before I move to put her back into her crib. Getting her in is a much harder task than getting her out. The crib is so tall and for being two, she is quite heavy. However, somehow I manage to gently place her back into her crib. I leave the door open a crack before returning to my room, grabbing my Teddy that sits on the end of the bed before I'm lowering myself onto the ground and hiding under my bed.

I've created a little nook under my bed. It holds my most precious items. The bear I'm currently holding usually resides there along with my favourite blankie, a pillow and some crayons to draw on the walls. No one ever comes under here but me so in a way, it's like my secret hideout.

The house has grown eerily quiet so I move to lay down, pulling the blanket up and over my body before emptying out the contents of the crayon box, starting to finish the drawing that I've made of Kaia and me.

Maybe one day we both can be happy. Maybe she won't have the same memories I do.

Maybe daddy will be kind to her. She's just a baby.

July 13, 2004.

18:59

Warning: harsh words/mental abuse

It's been a week since I've last seen mum. This is the longest she's been gone and I'm far too scared to ask him. I never ask him for anything, it's always a no or go away. Sometimes I wish I could disappear. Maybe it would make daddy happier.