Remedy;;

𝚜𝚒𝚡

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱;; 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲

Minnie's alarm clock ringed for the fourth time this morning, the throbbing pain in her head remembering her of still being alive. She barely slept last night. Insomnia, the stinging pain and the new bruises on her fragile body kept her awake.

Her father never used to be violent or physically abusing in any way. Her mother and father once were sane and moderate, happy parents. Minnie had a great childhood, living outside of town, having friends, a seemingly happy family – everything a child could dream of. Yet everything changed way too fast and Minnie was confronted with not only the serious side of life but also the horrible one.

At the age of 14 Minnie came back home from school only to find her mother at the verge of crying, bags in her hands, rushing out the front door. Not saying a single word to the flustered Minnie, she left. Leaving her alone with her father. Minnie never heard from her mother again, nor does she know why she left. First Minnie was shattered. Her mother was her best friend. They were really close and Minnie could tell her mother anything without getting judged or scolded. They would always find a solution no matter what problem they faced.

It seemed so unreal that she suddenly wasn't there anymore.
Minnie knew that her parents had a lot of arguments, even fights at times. She knew that. She couldn't miss it. Their loud voices, screams and insults kept her awake at night ever so often but she didn't wanted to believe it. She lived in an childish illusion, thinking it was normal, not wanting her perfect life to collapse.

Her father soon started using alcohol as a vent. First it were a few too many bottles on the weekend. Then it were a few too many ones each evening. It happened too fast for Minnie to process and soon her father started using Minnie as a vent as well. Letting out all the anger he felt on the fragile body of her, sometimes beating her up, sometimes throwing stuff at her, yelling at her, insulting her. He is unpredictable, she never knows if he has a bad or a good day. Sometimes he's just drowned in alcohol, too drunk to even recognize her, sometimes he has a good day and won't mind her presence at all.

All she feels thinking about her mother now is anger.
Why did she left without saying just a single word? Why did she left her with such a monster of a father?

Minnie didn't felt safe anymore in the house that once was her home.
She gave up hope a long time ago. Never fighting back, just enduring everything.
She became dull and numb. A living empty shell,  living on the edge of existence, vaguely keeping it all together.

The alarm clock ringed for the fifth time and this time she finally flung her eyes open, moved her heavy limbs out of her bed and started to get ready for school.

I hate Monday's.

She made her way to the bathroom, slightly limping as she stopped in front of the mirror hanging in the hall. Her face looked tired, dark circles showing underneath her dull eyes. A blueish bruise covered her left cheek. Another one on her ribcage, and right thigh. Her hands looked demolished, a mixture of her fathers work and her own.

It's not as bad today.

Getting ready for school, she covered all the visible traces of her fathers last tantrum, dressing in a comfortable outfit, covering everything that needed to be covered. Her father already left for work, keeping the house in a strange silence. Minnie quickly cleaned up the empty bottles and dirty plates her father left, a daily gesture to ease his mood, which soon turned out to be an obligation. After cleaning up she grabbed her backpack and stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of cool and fresh air and started walking to college.

Minnie seemed to be deemed inside a perennial loop of darkness, repeating itself one day after another.
Though something was different today. A tiny little spark of light casted through the clouded sky. A light that she forgot existed but always was there.

{Minnie's clothes}