How it came to this

December 2009

Yet another bad day is what I am next forced to endure.  My body is shaking.  Lana is wailing uncontrollably.

"Go to your fucking room, Lana!" Dad yells at his crying offspring.

"Terry, please."  Mom weakly begs as we stand in the living room absent one dead sibling.

My father raises his fist to Lana who in turn cowers.

His favorite daughter died last night.  The police wait outside for mom and dad to go to the morgue and identify the body.  Dad too was crying but now he stands red faced and angry before us.

I have yet to shed a tear instead taking Lana's hand and practically dragging her to her bedroom.  She goes in without a fight.  The me that I am now wants to cling to cling to this child in my grief.  Instead, I shut her door where she continues her wailing.

Dad looks at me, his face full of wrath.  A look I had not seen since I was a child.  It meant hell was on the way.

"We're leaving." He says through gritted teeth.  I gulp as he snatches mom away and turns his back on me.  I have yet to say a world as shock and guilt have crippled me.

As the door slams shut I cannot help but to imagine what awaits them.  I am grateful I was not asked to go with.

I picture mom and dad as they are led into the morgue.  The smells of chemicals cutting through the air. 

"This way."  The bald morticians says with gloved hands.

Mom would be in tears.  I stop imagining this for a second and not for the first time in my life wonder what exactly wrong with the man I call father.

In the room together we are a loathsome duo, our hatred for each other radiates off of our very souls.

I once again imagine them being led to a table with my dear sister beneath a white sheet.  "Are you ready?"  The morticians will ask solemnly as his hand lingers on the sheet.

"Yes."  My father will say while holding my mother's hand in a bone shattering way.  My parents breathe deeply as the mortician slowly removes the part of the sheet consuming Allie's head.

My mother falls to her knees in disbelief.

"Its her."  Father says releasing his grip on my mother.

My heart aches in a way I have never felt before.  The pain makes my eyes sting  and me lose the air in my lungs.

I imagine her pale and in broken pieces.

I too am in pieces and in the moment I am reminded of humpty dumpty.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,

All of he kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Humpty together again.

I am Humpty Dumpty.

Two hours pass with me staring blankly at the turned off television.  My heart aching and throbbing.  Everything hurts.

I hear the door swing open and remove myself from the wroom walking instead towards my parents.

As I reach them, I notice something cold in my father's eyes as my mom is weeping and holding her hands to consume her face.  She runs to the bedroom downstairs.

"Was it her?"  I finally ask.

"It's your fault, Amara."  He says.

"What?"  I ask incredulously.

"It's your fucking fault!"  With that his hand comes to my jaw in a slap.

This is not the first time he hit me yet it leaves me even more confused.

I know something far worse is coming though at the time I believed it was over.

"You were her sister, she was yours to protect,"  His hands come to my throat as he slams me into the nearby wall.  Air, I need air.  His hands are so tight.  I weakly claw at him.  This continues until I begin to see white and then he releases me.

It still is not over.  I fall to the floor gasping for air to come into my burning throat.

I stare at the floor afraid to meet his gaze and frozen in fear.  He is so much bigger than me.  I begin coughing.

"Quit overreacting."  He spits.  "You were always jealous of her, well you got your w ay Amara, she's dead."

With that he removes his belt and I begin screaming.

"Please, Daddy don't."  Instead he slams the belt so hard across my face that I curl up in a ball and try to wait it out.

After 20 minutes of whacking, he is panting.

"Go to your fucking room."  He says and leaves to find my mother.

Then I hear the though, I just want to die.  It is a very common thought now.  It echoes in my head forcing me to listen to it.  I am shaking and sore.  I try to stand slowly and succeed.  Before I go upstairs I head to the kitchen and grab the smallest and sharpest knife.

I am going to end it here and now.  I think and head to my room.

I am still shaking as I quietly shut my door and lock it.

With a clumsy and red welted hand, I open my notebook on my vanity and grab a pen from the holder.

I'm sorry mom.  I'm sorry Lana.  I write and rip the page out setting it on the vanity with the pen atop to act as a paperweight.

I fall to the floor and take the knife to my wrist.

Please, I beg, just do it.  I begin sawing on my wrist.  Deeper, faster, harder, I think.

That is when I hear a light knock on my bedroom door.

"Amy."  I hear Lana say in a meek voice.  "Amy, I need you."

I open the drawer to my vanity hiding the knife note and open the door.

As I open the door a part of me as I am no wishes I had ended it then and there.

But Lana, I think, I cannot leave her in this hell by herself.  Echoes my past thoughts.

The blackness consumes me.  Blood, I taste it and a lot of it on a  foul tongue.

Finally, I am transported back to my room.  My body temporally paralyzed as it is lain awkwardly on the floor.  I am choking and cough relentlessly as the blood seeps down my throat.

Oh God.  I think I am going to die choking on my own blood.

Suddenly, my tense body loosens up.  I regain control.  Still gagging, I crawl to my bathroom, not without taking a look at my alarm clock. 

What the hell is going on?  I see the clock reads 11:31 p.m.  For a second I believe I am getting my wish to join my sister in deathly bliss.  My face is sticky and I reach for the porcelain sink.  Desperately, my hands pull my body upward forcing me to gather a look at the tragedy that is me.

I jump at the sight.  My hair is caught in a tangle of blood.

"Shit." I utter the sound is hoarse.  Another shower!

That is when I snippet of darkness creeps up on me.  No, please!  My eyesight returns

"It'll be over soon."  A female voice much like mine says coldly.

I whirl around.

"Who said that?"  I question.  There is no source and the voice does not speak again.

Another flash of darkness before returning me to the present.

I race towards my bed and lay on my side.

"Make it stop."  I whisper and a tear falls silently atop the blood.  "Please."

But whatever is happening is far too strong for me.  I am spiraling into the unknown.