Pretty Again (Urban)

Chapter 14

(Reminder of what Precious looks like)
~ Precious P.O.V~

To say that I'm hurt would be an understatement. It's something more like betrayal. The man that I grew up to love but then despise, the man that I've known for all my 16 years, the man that I thought was my father really isn't. This feeling of deep undeniable hatred and loathe towards him have done nothing but grown since the recent revelations.

When I left that house I walked away from plenty of different things. I walked away from my mother, my childhood and most importantly I walked away from myself.

Before I can live a part of me has to die. I have to let go of what could have been, how I should have acted and what I wish I would have said differently. I have to accept that I can't change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or mines. When I finally recognize that truth then I will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of myself and others. From this point I will finally be free.

But the sad reality of it is that I will never be free. I can't let go. And I refuse to accept. Yes, I acknowledge what I NEED to do but I'm not going to do it. I can't.

Right now I'm just drained emotionally, physically and mentally. I'm to the point where I want to shut down and close everyone off. I'm to the point where I stop caring about everything and everyone including disregarding what little care and dignity I have left for myself.

It's 3 A.M and I'm sitting here in complete silence realizing that I'm truly alone and I'm so afraid that's all I'll ever be. Everyone claims that they care and that they're here for me but to me, everyone cares when it's too late.

Maybe I'm just confused and lost. The complete and absolute trust that I had in the woman who gave birth to me has completely vanished. I find myself no longer knowing who I really am or where I came from. Right now, I'm not sure what I should do or how I should feel but one emotion that's there for sure is betrayal.

If only my mother knew what kind of man that she allowed into our home and lives. If only she knew the kind of man that she "fell in love" with. The man that sexually abuses me, the man that pimp me out to random people for money, the man that has made me have several abortions, and lets not forget the man who the community loves and adores as their preacher because they don't know the truth. My body was his Saturday night drink, and I was his Sunday morning hangover.

This whole situation has my heart heavy. People don't understand how stressful and frustrating my life really is. I really need a break from all this. I'm so grateful that there's only a week and half left of school because I can't take it anymore.

These past three weeks have been challenging at the least. Since the day I left my house, I haven't been back. I can't. I've been staying with Chantels' aunt and she was completely understanding of my situation. In order not to have my "mother" worried, I think she called her and told her that I was safe.

Laying down in Chantel's cold bed, facing the window, I could see the highlight of the sun over the horizon peaking through the clouds. For the first time in a while I took the time to admire the beauty of the sunrise and imagined becoming the way I used to be as a very young child. Before I understood the meaning of any word, before opinions took over my mind. The real me is loving, joyful, and free. The real me is just like a flower, just like the wind, just like the ocean, and just like the sun.