On This Terrible, No Good For Nothing Day

November 26th

A/N: I was feeling a little bit down today and was listening to some Slam Poetry by Patrick Roche and I swear to god it made me cry for reasons I don’t want to share. Well here we go, (This is so not like a slam poem) Btw, this poem, I’m writing it as I go. Just know I haven’t written a rough draft for this since it is just coming to me right now.

Also, I am almost done with my other book: Ciel X Reader and I recommend you check it out unless you already are. Please Enjoy this small drabble of angst.

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I stood there….

In front of the woman who glanced at me as if I were an animal.

An alien that wasn’t supposed to even exist.

The disappointment and anger she held for me was evident in her dark, beautiful hazel eyes. It was evident in her frowning lips and EVEN in the way she was standing.

Her hands clenched…

Her hair Un-brushed…

Her features succumbing to the aura of pity around us.

She was the only person I actually liked in my family even if she constantly beat, harassed, and yelled horrifying words that no youngster these days would like to know.

I cringed as she once again lifted her hand up in the air, ready to hit my already bruised cheek.

Everything I had done before this moment flashed in second’s right before my eyes. Like those cliché movies when they describe how a character dies, except…

This was no movie…

I saw myself at the age of 7. An adorable little child playing outside until the scene decided to change. That same scene that gave me nightmares every 26th of November.

I see that same adorable little child, holding her head while rocking back and forth in a corner, trying to cover up the sounds of screaming and objects crashing onto the floor.

It was that moment that changed that 7 year olds life. That poor child who wanted no more than to be held in her father’s arms. No more than to have a caring mother who would always kiss her good night. Wanting no more than a normal life.

Of course…

she knew from the beginning that ‘normal’ was never going to happen.

She Knew that she had gotten a change she never asked for.

Now I can see that same girl walking out of the once organized bedroom, stepping over picture frames that seemed to have never had a photo, over papers that had all sorts of numbers and totals. Over anything that made her think to what had made this tragic day claim her life.

What exactly did happen…?

Why did this happen?

Why me…?

Those were the thoughts haunting my already wrecked mind as I saw the girl finally walk into the kitchen… seeing her parents arguing over something that made no sense to her.

She saw her father lift up a hand

holding it directly over her mother like a command that was unplanned on this day.

On this terrible, no good for nothing day.

Reality took over me like a wave.

A wave of alert and sensitivity that this day had brought forth.

Now…

As I look back at my mother’s once beautiful and dark hazel eyes, I know that I must take action.

I must do something for my sake…

and for the sake of my mother who is now stuck in the illusion that the past never happened.

That the past isn’t the reason why we can’t move on.

It is ourselves succumbing to the fact that we can’t change the past

As I look back at my small house on this calm November’s night, I can’t help but wonder…

What if I did do something that day? Something that maybe could have kept us together Instead of walking and just standing there on that fateful day.

On that terrible, no good for nothing 26th day.