Moodless

Life kept going

I left the kitchen. My hands were shaking out of control and I held back few tears. My head spun around possibilities of punishment my father would give me. They were more torture then anything. He started off with hitting and pushing, but now he uses weapons. He trys to kill me, but can never finish me off. so in ways he leaves me to suffer and get up to help myself. I have to clean my own cuts and scrapes. I also have to keep my mouth shut about what happens to me, because if not...I'm punished more.

I turned my head as I walked down the hallway, Austins door was wide open. His bed never slept in, toys never played with, and a meal from earlier today never touched. Austin just sits there in the middle of his bed, legs crossed, back straight, and eyes dead ahead.

"Hey Austin..." I always tried to get him to speak to me. Even though its piontless, I still tried.  I stood slightly in his doorway. " mom is almost done with dinner so..." my voice quivered to silence. I had nothing else  to say to him. There was, of course, no answer from Austin. I knew there would never be an answer. I left his doorway and made my way to my own bedroom.

I stopped at my closed door. A smile spread across my face. I remembered the first day we moved into the house. My father had me on his shoulders and asked me at almost every doorway in the house " how about this room Layla?" I'd giggle and shake my head no and he would go to the next door. we did this until we got to the very end of the hallway. I picked My room and my Father and I danced and stomped around. Even my mother joined in and she was six months pregnant.

Tears built up in my eyes thinking about that memory, but I'm glad i remembered it. Its one of the few that i still could remember. It felt like it had been a million years since then. I'd never felt more alone then when I came back into reality and relized it would never be like that again.