Is This Goodbye?

Part 1

Here i am standing at the edge of this cliff contemplating it all. Life and death deciding which to chose and which to do away with. I guess before i make my decision i should relive it all and think it all over. How did I get myself in this sort of position. You know it's kinda sad if you think about it. Just a normal teenager contemplating his own life. Feeling like there's no way out and no other solution. Knowing that you shouldn't but you can't deal with the pain anymore and there's no one to help you even the people you have asked. This pain has been here most of my life starting when I was around 8 years old but luckily back then I didn't know what it was. I lived with my dad send I was young. My mom died in a horrible car crash and everyone in both cars ended up dead. Losing mom drove my dad a little crazy she was his everything and with her being gone he spiraled out of control. He was an alcoholic but I didn't know that at such a young age maybe I could have gotten out of there. I could of went to some protection services and got to live a normal rest of my life. That has come to pass a long time ago. It first started when my dad came home drunk which wasn't unusual except this time was different this time he was mad. He came in and set down In his old black leather recliner. All he did was look at me I was sitting on the couch watching tv late at night because it was the weekend and i couldn't sleep. He took a long from his metal flask of scotch; screwed the top back on and throw it at me. It hit me square on the nose and blood went everywhere. I started to cry because of the pain as he gets up screaming at me for getting blood on the couch ,and all I could do was run to the bathroom and try to stop the bleeding. The sink and floor were covered in blood by the time the bleeding stopped. That's when he walked in again yelling at me. This time not just about the couch also about how I made a mess in the bathroom and how it was my fault the couch is ruined. He was cursing like a sailor and all I was able to say in a week voice through tears is that he shouldn't have thrown the flask at me. At that moment I remember I could see the fire burn into his eyes. All I could see was pure raw anger and hatred. The next thing I knew he pushed me to the cold bathroom floor and took off his belt and started hitting me with it. Over and over again, but the worst part was he hadn't payed attention and was using the metal end of the belt. Lets just say I still have scars across my back from that beating. That was the day it all changed. After that the beatings became for frequent. It was God send for me to go a full 24 hours without one. He would beat me for small things like i got some water on the floor or speaking out of turn. The worst beating left bad bruises that were there for days and days. One time he broke my arm and when he took me to the hospital he said if i told them he broke it he would beat me when we got home. There was one thing consistent with the beatings he was always drunk. He always came home the same way hammered out of his mind and full of rage and maybe sadness because of mom's death. In a way i almost felt bad for him because i know it was hard losing mom. It was hard on both of us me the kid who has to grow up without a mother and my father who has to work his ass off all day just to feed our family. I got over it though because she was in a better place the place i knew she would always end up, I didn't remember a lot about her exempt she was sweet and nice. Dad on the other hand let the darkness consume him and drive him mad and blacken his heart. Instead of coping with it like a normal person he took out all his anger on me. I didn't know why though and still don't. He might blame me or he might just hate me. I might never know.