Effulgent

♡ 4 ♡

♡Lilith♡

I am not sure how much time has passed; all I know is that I am unable to move from the piano like I'm glued to the bench. The music acts like a shield, keeping me safe. The only thing I can feel is my fingers cramping, begging for me to stop but I can't. Unwilling to be swallowed by the darkness and simultaneously being comforted by the pain. My tears have stopped, numbness taking its place. It's like my body is in the room but I'm not there.

The echo of the metal door creaking open cuts through the sound of my music; Surely the lack of sleep is just getting to me, and I am hallucinating. My thoughts are cut off when light pours into the room instantly stinging my eyes. I reluctantly take my hands off the keys to shield them.

"Time to get ready for school" my mother's soft voice fills the room, it's almost angelic. Almost, but not quite.

"Yea, give me a second" I reply, my voice sounding rough, she doesn't acknowledge it, wanting to quickly go back to the perfect family image I assume.

I don't make a move to get up yet, not until the sound of her retreating footsteps fill echo in the empty room telling me It is safe, I don't think she would hurt me, but I also didn't think my father would shove me back into this room so I am not keen on believing the best of people right now. I stand up slowly, my legs slightly buckling beneath my weight, my fingers slamming onto the piano keys for stability. The loud sound only adds to the headache. Taking a second to steady myself I make my way out of the dark and cramped room using my hand as a shield for when I practically get flashbanged from the light. I find my way to the staircase, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I hate stairs, even when I'm not two seconds from collapsing.

Lifting my leg to take the first step I bite my lip so as to not cry out in pain, one step at a time I tell myself. I try to make a mental note to stretch later. I grab the railing, using it to pull half my weight. Painful tears escape my eyes as I take another agonizing step. I glance at the railing, catching sight of my hand only causes my heart to sink more. They look monstrous, the thought of having to play again tonight only making the thought of throwing myself over the railing even more tempting.

I never was very smart, was I?

I take one last step finally making it to the top, grateful my thoughts kept me occupied. Clinging to the wall as I drag my feet on the floor, I immediately head to the bathroom finding myself in need of a shower, badly. I slowly take off my clothing, wincing as I'm forced to contort and move my body, I look at my body in the mirror turning left, right, throwing my hair over my shoulder and looking back. My lip quivering as my eyes land on a giant bruise that adorns the right side of my torso, some of it spreading on my arm, back and thigh. My makeup smudged, the mascara that once accentuated my eyes now showing the trails of my tears, my hands bloody and slightly bruised.

I don't look like myself and that is what hurts the most, sometimes it feels like the only thing we can control in our lives is our bodies and when someone else violates that it causes a sense of panic and dissonance.

A million different emotions stir inside me, replacing the numb feeling. The most prominent thing I ever feel is jealousy, I am jealous of every single regular child in existence. The children who don't live an extraordinarily lavish life. Who don't grow up to become millionaires, who aren't the next Stephen Hawking. Simple, quiet lives, sure they go through their own struggles, but I would trade everything I have material wise just to get a taste of that lifestyle.

A taste of struggles I can control; I can manage and plan for. If anyone could hear my thoughts, they'd think I was crazy, who dreams of things like financial struggles? Apparently, me, but those struggles seem better than being in the hands and temperament of my father.