A Trophy Father's Trophy... Daughter

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Night had come once again. It was 10:30. Dad had been gone for 3 hours already. I knew he'd be home in a few hours. I looked at my jewelry box again. My cuts were still fresh from yesterday. But it was so tempting. It felt as though I heard it calling my name from the box.

Hunter. Hunter. Hunter. You didn't forget about me, did you?

No, of course not. Never. 

It's because you love me too much. I knew it.

I knew it too. 

Well,of course you did! Now, come and get me out of this dark box. Let me see light. Then let me see blood. Let me let you breathe. Let me let you see that you're alive. Let me give you stress-relieving pain. 

I will. 

So, I did. My thighs. And then more. My lower legs. And my hips. And it felt so good. I lay back in bed and began to fall asleep, aware of the fact that my blood was seeping through my pajama pants and into my sheets and mattress.

I woke up to the slamming of the front door. He's home. 

"Ohhhhhh Hunter!!!! I'mmmmm homeeee!!!!" He stumbled up the stairs and into my bedroom. "What happened? Why is there blood all over?" He pushed me onto the floor and began inspecting my bed. He turned to face me, and saw my blood soaked pants. "Hm... You're just like her."

I covered my head and curled into a ball and waited. But nothing came for a minute. I slowly uncovered my head and glanced over at him. He was staring at the blood on my mattress. Almost as if it was telling him a story, and he was listening intently. He zoned out as if there was a movie going on in the back of his mind.

"She used to. Many times. Scars. All over her. I never understood. How she could harm such a beautiful, perfect body. How she could harm such a beautiful, perfect person." I gazed at him. He loved her. He always did. He always will. He still had a heart; a broken heart, but none-the-less, a heart. I prayed that maybe he would just walk into his room and maybe I wouldn't be beat tonight. But God told me, "No, not tonight."

"You WILL NOT end up like her. Never! I will NOT allow it!" The alcohol stench on his lips seemed to scream louder than he did. My legs, thighs and hips were kicked, and it hurt so much worse, having the raw skin there. My arms were hit and squeezed, and then I was once again thrown across the room as he walked out. I crawled back into my bed and turned on my music, as I sniffled softly to myself.

All that I know is gone.

All that I know is gone.

Fall deeper and deeper, the sirens are singing your song.

I'll miss my breath, there's no more left,

I'll miss the sound of the wind at my back,

The depths have a number, they'll call you by name...

All that I know IS gone. I DO miss my breath that I feel like there's none left. I miss being able to walk strong through the "wind."

All that I know is gone. 

All that I know is gone.

Fall deeper and deeper, the sirens are singing your song...

They get it. Sleeping with Sirens. Kellin Quinn. They get it. They get saddness. They get pain. They get life. I couldn't live without their music to help me see that I'm not all alone.