Pain.
That's something everyone experiences at some point in their lives, but mine is constant. My Mother isn't a kind woman, she never loved me, never even liked me. It always made me wonder why she kept me around, why stay around someone you don't like? But that doesn't matter now, I'm stuck with her as she is with me. There's only one complaint I have, her beatings.
They were never reasonable or even warranted, but they existed. She would come into my room, and that's where her fun began. Cutting, punching, burning, suffocating, these were only a few of her 'punishments'. Once, she took it too far.
She carved into my back.
She wrote, 'Worthless', upon my skin.
I was frozen, 'Why? Why did she do that?', She scoffed at my still form, "Pathetic would've been a better word, look at you. Acting like a deer in headlights. Clean yourself up, you worthless child.", Then she left me alone.
Alone.....
Like always, I was alone.
Standing on shaky legs, I walked to the bathroom and cleaned my wound. After sloppily putting band-aids around my chest, I curled into the small blanket in the corner of my room. Small tears started to fall.
'I wish she would kill me.'
