The Death Wish

Questions

My room was dark. I liked the dark. The thick blackness wrapped around my features and hid me from whatever could see me. No one should see me... No one... Even though my room had no hint of light, I could still see. My pencil scratched along the paper of my journal. This journal was the only one who seemed to listen to what I had to say, cared about what I felt. With my lips firmly set into a line I wrote

Dear Journal,

Today was the same as always...  Woke up, ate, read, studied. Other students left their houses to go to school. Why can't I go too? Why won't father let me outside? Father is always so skiddish but, I love Daddy.  Speaking of which, Dad tried to commit suicide again. Luckily, I banged on the bathroom door until he opened it an hour later. I don't understand why Father looks at me the way he does. He always seems so sad but, in the end, he would hold me awkwardly and tell me he loves me. The words seemed empty though... This makes me very... Upset...

Is Father sad because of me? He's always been like this but lately it's been getting worse... He takes pills to calm his nerves but, the man is always fidgeting with fear or anger. What is Dad fearing? Why does he seem so... So... Angry? When he says he loves me,I can see the anger welling up in his grey eyes.... I might I have never gone to school but, I'm not a dumb ass. Of  course, Father taught me himself. He was a college professor at Berkeley. I don't remember what exactly he taught there. But, I  remember him grading papers late at night.

When I was little, I had tried to peek while he was working. That night, it was dark and Father had a single candle in front of him burning. He scratched away the paper with a red pen. The man seemed tired, I asked when he was going to bed but, he only stared at me with a blank expression. I tried to pull on his sleeve and then... He freaked... Father knocked me aside... Screaming that I didn't belong... I killed her.. Killed who? I layed on the grey carpet crying as Father scooped me in his arms and apologized. He shushed me to sleep then. 

This memory had become one of my worst nightmares... In fact, I had it last night. Afterwards, I couldn't sleep... I wonder if Dad might let me go to school in the spring.. I would like to meet other people but, what if they hate me? I don't want that. Maybe it's better, like Father said, to stay hidden. But hidden from what? I don't know... What was Father hiding, and how does it involve me?

- rAiN cArNeYvInE

I closed the journal slowly, rubbing my eyes. What makes me so... So different? Tired of thinking, I sighed as I jumped off my bed and opened the door with a creak. It was bright, I squinted for my eyes to adjust. Walking lazily down the hallway, I glance at the pictures hanging... There were no pictures. Never. None of me, none of Dad, and none of what do you call it? Mother? I knew I had a mother, her name was Elizabeth. Father told me she left us. How could Mother do that to him? I guess Father was to depressed about my mother to show photos of her because when I asked he would cringe away, mumbling no. I've never seen a photo... Not one... The only person I've ever talked to or was face to face with was father and the doctor. I was always blind-folded though. Father would say I had an opti-mawasit... A condition with my eyes where I was sensitive to light. I've never seen the doctor's face either.

I sneak peeks at passerby's though. when Father's gone I look the shutters and a whole new world is open before me. I never knew there were so many different kinds of faces, different bodies... It was fascinating!

Putting my slim white hand on the bathroom door handle, it turned. I needed a shower desperately. The bathroom looked like it was out of catalouge. Neat, up tight, and nothing but white. I stripped with ease and turned the shower head to hot. The room was quickly swallowed with a hot choking mist. I wiped away at the fog on the mirror, my face reflecting. How am I different? My eyes glowed like glistening golden halos before the fog swallowed my reflection hungrily, the question hanging menacingly.