a world in perspective

1

     I wake up to pain. Pain that doesn't exist but will always be there. Pain that will never let me forget what happened. I'll never stop hurting.
     Once the pain subsided, I lazily gazed around my room, if you could even call it that. My "room" is a cot and a chest-of-drawers hastily shoved against a wall in the attic. Boxes of junk, long forgotten keepsakes, and inches of dust coated the rest of the space. The longer I live here, the more I feel like a forgotten item covered in dust. I wish Sam would stop saving my butt.
     Ever since socal services sent me to live with his family a month ago, he keeps protecting me when I don't want him to. No matter what I do to try to leave, he convinces everyone that I didn't do anything. I wish he would stop; stop caring for me, protecting me. I wish he would stop acting like the brother I'm afraid to have. If I allow myself to start caring for him, it would just add more unwanted pain when he fails. When he fails to protect and love me. Any love I feel for him would just end hurting me in the end. If only he'd stay away. If only he'd leave me be.
     I drag myself out of bed. In need of something to look at, besides all the dust and junk, I trudge over to the window that overlooks the front yard. Pastures filled with horses and cattle stretch for miles. Where the fields end, the mountains and unfamiliar forests of the Montana countryside begin. Why must such  a beautiful place be my prison.