My Will To Live

CHAPTER 2-What happened after I fell asleep

"WAKE UPPPPPPP!!!!"

A voice is calling me to wake up . I groan and try to fall back asleep, before realising that it is Mother calling me . Uh-oh. I'm in trouble . I'm out of my bed like a shot.

"I realised that you went to bed... WITHOUT DOING YOUR CHORES!" Oh no! I silently groaned in horror. What punishment is she going to come up with now ???

"As a result , your punishment will be that you cannot sleep any longer tonight. And you will have no food tomorrow. Now get out of bed!" She pushes me roughly out of my bed . Correction. She pushed me so hard that I fell onto the floor, squarely on my aching knees. They bleed. And so do my hands, which also landed onto the floor , when I tried to support myself from falling.

My mom grins as if the sight of my bleeding hands and knees make her happy.

"GET UP!" she yells. I quickly get up and depart the room.

As I leave and go downstairs to begin my chores, I realise that my stomach is growling in hunger and my hands are shaking from the lack of glucose. I need food. And desperately . I sneak over to the tap. Even though we've been cautioned not to drink from them, I know that it's either I drink the water or die. I drink hungrily , and try to trick myself into thinking that the water is a sweet, tasty syrup instead of the smelly and awful tasting stuff flowing out of the tap and into my mouth. It does not work, and I almost threw up all the water that I drank. I force it down.

I barely am able to pull out one of the dishes before I begin to retch.

I stagger quickly to the toilet . I throw up for what feels like eternity before the retching stops . Then I lean back onto the wall. Why? I ask myself. What did I do to deserve this? Did I ever offend any of my parents ? Why was I letting them torture me... Like that?

"Someday, I'll be, big enough so you can't hit me." I begin to sing Mean. I begin soft , my throat still painful from retching . Then I begin the song , for real. I was never one to sing in front of a group. I hated it . But I loved to sing to myself. My voice wasn't the best, but at least I could comfort myself by singing one of Taylor Swift's songs.

"You, with your words like knifes and the swords and the weapons that you use against me,

You, have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like a nothing

You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard calling me out when I'm wounded

You, picking on the weaker man

You can take me down, with just one single blow ,

But you don't know what you don't know

Some day, I'll be, living in a big old city, and all you're ever gonna be is mean

Someday, I'll be, big enough so you can't hit me, and all you're ever gonna be is mean

Why you gotta be so mean?"

I feel my heart soar on the song, how every bit of it was describing my feelings then and there. And how much I wanted to live in a big old city where all my parents were going to be was just mean. How I longed to one day finally be old enough to leave this house and buy my own flat.

How I longed for that day where all my parents were going to be, were mean.

I wanted that day more than anything . Most importantly, I had looked forward to that day when my parents and I would make up, be one happy family .

I could feel my heart clench painfully at that. It was a fantasy. It would never happen. My dad was always out drinking, day in and day out. My mom took all of her anger out on me. It would never happen. Unless my dad quit drinking. That was impossible . He would never do that. I used to tell him not to, and learnt the hard way never to do that. Again . What if my mom actually went to anger management classes? Also impossible . As you would probably guess, I learnt that the hard way too.

I learnt never ever to say anything that was of my opinion . Keep myself quiet, don't say anything unless I absolutely need to. Accept whatever punishment was meted out to me, because clearly my opinion did not matter here in this house .

Actually , me and my opinion probably did not matter anywhere.

I was invisible in school. I had no friends , or even a best friend. People stayed away from me because they thought I was stupid. The teachers stopped calling me to remedial, since I never attended. No one wanted me to participate in any group project, either. People stayed out of my way, but didn't tease me either because they thought I was "emo".

I knew where this was leading up to. If I didn't buck up, I'd end up like my parents. Dropping out of school.

Something I didn't ever want to happen, but now? If I actually got any homework done, it would be because for once mom or dad weren't scolding or drinking. In other words, that would be a miracle . My other dream? To meet the woman who helped me get through this, and is still helping me, even though she didn't know it.

Yes. To meet Taylor Swift.

I nearly laugh out loud at myself. If even doing homework is a miracle , can you imagine meeting Taylor Swift? Yep, no chance. Zilch. Not happening . The closest I'll ever get is admiring her picture on magazines at that news stand on the way home from, yes, afar.

I nearly start crying. To think that I would never ever get to thank the person who is helping me, it makes me upset. She's such an inspiring woman too. Yes, I am a big Swiftie. It's just sad that I won't be able to meet Taylor Swift.

That I'll never meet that woman who is helping me.

I stand up and walk out of the bathroom. I'd better start washing the dishes , or else. If they're not ready by breakfast, I will be in even more trouble than I already am in. I really didn't want that. Speaking of breakfast, my stomach growled loudly, like a hungry bear. I groaned . Whatever water that I had drunk , plus today's food, was lost when I threw up.

I was to have no food tomorrow . I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Then another , and another, until I felt like a small stream was running down my face. The fear of tomorrow had finally dawned on me.

How was I supposed to survive without food?

I was doomed. For sure.

And, I had just realised something. Even if I got to meet Taylor Swift, I doubt she would think I mattered much. Everybody told me I didn't matter. The kids at school, even the teachers, who have just written "F" on every worksheet I turn in, because they can't be bothered anymore. The only things I want to say is that they don't understand, it's not like I am some can't be bothered student. But no, I can't . I either keep my mouth shut, or lose my life. Obviously I would choose to shut up right?

But really! What did I deserve to get this kind of treatment ? Have I offended my parents in my past life? Or have I unconsciously been rude to them? No, I don't recall doing that .

I feel the tears snake down my face as these thoughts form in my mind. Will I ever be good enough ? Will my parents ever accept me instead of using me as a tool?

The answer is obvious. N-o. No.

I feel more tears come as I wonder how I will ever survive the future. I'm only 12, going on 13.I have to wait until I'm at least 18? Or when I go to Uni. If I ever get the chance to go to Uni. The fear of the moment finally dawns on me. I lose whatever happiness I had when I was singing. Instead, I feel fear's hand take hold on my heart. And grip there. How will I ever get a chance to survive this place? There will certainly be that day when I finally fall apart!

The rest of my chores are mixed up with tears, sadness, fear and singing.

Because the very least I can do to change my life is to hope. Only Taylor's songs can give me that.

It doesn't hurt to hope, right?