Eyed Well

11: Plates at another restaurant

(Amaryllis)

Mirrors were great artifacts. Only if you wanted to look at your tears flooding your rosey red cheeks.

When you try to place a smile but it shakes like ground in earthquake incidents. And having to wipe the tears that have reached your chin from all the tears.

The red that covers from both your cheeks to your nose, a blush of complete sorrow.

And the horrible headache that burns you out like no pain ever explained. The pain of the people that convince you to let go of the project you've been holding for so long with shaky hands, but all they do is ruin it even more.

That's what all I felt last night, the betrayal of my brother's arms, the way he left that night.

He let my 12 year old soul lack on love and eat on abuse, to save his 16 year old self from my dying figure.

I didn't know I was dying, I thought that my dad was fixing me, I was so young but the only thing wrong with me is that I've never had light in me.

I was always lost in the darkness until I became apart of it, I've seen so much light but I don't think the light saw me when I was lost.

My brother never gave me a hand, he could have taken me with Jim but he left me to rot until I left myself the same age he did.

We both left for such different reasons, I left from the suffering scattering thru the rooms in the dark and hitting many walls on the way.

And I knew he didn't leave because he wanted to get away from abuse, but because he wanted to get away from me.

He loved father too much, he thought father was an idol to look up to, and when a daughter was born, a father sees that infant as a manipulative object, and when the abuse belittled on Isaac, he thought that father's love belittled on him and gained on me.

Issac had nothing on his plate so he started eating the ate itself.

So he left the inspiration he had in his brain, not because he loved the peace he dreamed of day and night but because he lost the love he couldn't eat on the plate.

He thought that father stopped giving him plates completely, plates so he can break with his mouth and blood drip thru his teeth.

His young brain loved to look at other restaurants for other plates and it seemed he settled into eating at the one I was kidnapped in.

Brother couldn't even have the decency to help me during the time I was trapped in his base.

His name feels like wolf in sheep clothing, devil in angel dust, he thought was he did was bold but every action he does only leans in on the cruelty and destruction. He's italic.

But the only thing bold about him is how little he can stand up to father when he would hurt him.

I look at the clock the time being 12:36  a time I never want to look at again, not after yesterday.

Time clicks in my ear and I drop the pen it moves in motion and my memory brings back a hurtful time in the past.

Gravity pulls my pen to the ground, it fell from my hand for the eleventh time today.

And the weirdest thing about it is that I'm the exact same age right now, I'm eleven. Well eleven and a half but still eleven.

I really like my age, but something or someone I like even more than my age, is my brother Issac.

He's super nice to me, actually he is extremely nice to me, he always protects me from dad when he would try to hurt me.

I love my brother a lot for that, but something that I don't like about him is that he wants dad to hit or yell at him every time he tries to do it to me.