Right But Wrong

Lost

Only those that have lost someone in their life will truly understand the feeling that you could have done more. The wish for one final time with that person. The hope for them to come back, even though most of the time that's physically impossible. The prayers that they'll be safe and happy, yet not knowing if those prayers go anywhere other than the back of you mind. 

Many people say there's five stages of grief; denial, bargaining, anger, depression and acceptance. Some even say there's a sixth stage, that being revenge. Yet what people fail to mention is the fact that you will go through the first three stages within only a couple of hours. At first you will deny everything, tell those that say the truth that their evil liars, no matter what proof they have.

"Your lying!" i yelled, seeing the proof in front of me but trying to come up with a different reason why. Everything, anything, just not this. 

The blood. The eyes that held no life anymore. The cold touch of her fingers. The disapeared breathing. The continuous apologies from anyone and everyone. All proof of what was happening, yet if it was proof why did none of it feel real?

"i'm sor-"

"Stop saying that!" i cut the social worker off, hating that that's all anyone could say and feeling the physical pain in my heart. "stop lying to me" i knew if they continued saying what they were i would break down in any minute.

They were lying. They had to be. There was no other way. They had to be lying.

Then you will try to bargain with everything, say you'll do better or offer whatever God you believe in everything you have, including your own soul, just for one final moment. Even if you don't believe any God exists, you will still bargain with the little hope that something powerful is out there listening to you.

"pl please..this can't be the the tr truth..please" my voice was being broken up by the way i was breathing, i couldn't form proper sentences, all i could do was cry and beg. Every piece of hope i had leaving with the soul of the only person i had in this life. If there was a God out there, then it was a cruel, heartless being who stole everything from those who had practically nothing to begin with. Stopping any chance for good people to have a normal life. It was selfish and had little remorse for anything. Why was it like this? If it was God shouldn't it be taking care of it's creations. If God was as nice and forgiving as people said, then why would he allow organs, flesh and blood to be spilled all over a cream carpet. Why wouldn't he allow us to know who was the cause of all of this. The social worker had proof, but they didn't have the proof we needed. I needed.

Then you'll become angry, most of the time that anger isn't directly aimed at anything, all you know is your skin feels like its on fire, your mind can't process anything and you feel like you need to give something else your pain because you can't handle it alone.

"Fuck you. This is your fault." who was i talking to? nothing. who was i to blame when there was no proof of who i could? Who i was talking to would depend on your thinking, either i was talking to nothing or i was talking to everything, maybe it was both. I was either talking to the thin air or i was talking to anything, anyone and everyone that was listening, that would take even a millisecond to listen. I just needed something to blame my anger on. Why didn't she stay for longer? Why couldn't she stay for longer? She was supposed to be here until i no longer needed her, yet she left when i needed her most. But who was i to blame her? She didn't pick this tragedy, if she did it would be a suicide, and that check was already done. No, this was no suicide it was a brutal murder by someone that deserved nothing but the absolute worst.

"come on kid" I wanted to scream at the act of the hand that touched me. But if i did i would make a scene, and that would only make matters worst. The hand belonged to a monster, a cruel, evil, cursed monster. What was another word for this monster? other than my step-father. Deep down i felt like this was his fault, the truth was only a monster could cause something like this. A monster like him.

"Avery, i will come and check on you later" my social worker stated, yet she didn't realise what that was going to cause for me. She was allowing a beast to take home it's meal. Many people would say she knew no better, but if she knew no better then why was she a social worker? If she knew no better then why would she promote herself as safety? Social worker's weren't what they promoted, or at least most of them weren't. Instead some of them were monsters themselves, money grabbing monsters who cared little about the ones they were supposed to as they cared too much about themselves instead. 

The world promoted itself as a safe place. A place of hope, dreams, wishes and fun. But would it still promote itself as that if it saw what was behind closed doors? Would it promote itself at all if it did? The world was nothing but a big fake, most of that was the result of society. Society was more like a concept than anything, so was normality. It was a concept that made you think you were supposed to act a certain way, look a certain way and feel a certain way. But who was anyone to tell anyone else what they were supposed to feel and think? What happened to our body, our choice or all lives matter or even the concept of freedom? Did any of it exist? Or was that just another way to get money.

People say God, royalty, parliament and anything related to the government rule. When in reality there is only three things that do; Development, money and concepts of society. But if we were to say that, then worship and ruling wouldn't be something so glamorised anymore.

When i walked through the doors and into the cave of the monster, there was only one thing that could go through my head. Someone, anyone, anyone who could hear me, please get me out of this torture no matter what it means.