Diary of a Forgotten Beggar

4. A Journey Beyond

I am stuck in an illusion
I know this well
It torments my being
I know this true

My heart has been rent asunder
I feel the chaos rise
Ready to beget a new generation of pain

The silhouette beckons me
I give in to the whim of desire

Anymore shall be given?
Anymore shall be accepted
A traitor to the life of love
There is no heart left

28th March 2019

Never in my life have I had to deal with a loss of someone I loved. I sat in my old room, not moving. Not saying a word.
Lalla and Nita were laying on my bed. I looked at them and a memory flashed in my mind.

Lalla was just born a few days ago. My parents were thrilled to have a new child. All the attention was diverted to Lalla. Everytime I tried to get their attention I was abruptly told to either go away or do something else. So much effort was put in looking after a baby. But at that age I was barely a young adult of 13 years. I watched them with with a sick feeling in my stomach. How could they not care about me? Was I worthless? One night during supper I got so mad. I threw my plate against the wall, stood up and ran to my room. My father came after me and before I could close my door he entered. I received the beating of my life that night. Somehow thinking about it now is kind of amusing.

Almost as if she could sense I was looking at her she, she turned and gave me a flat look.

"Really now, Ken? What are you staring at?" I didnt want to reply but her voice compelled me to answer. "Nothing really. I'm.just wondering how you will look when you are old. Probably fat and wrinkly." I said with a grin. Immediately she jumped up and tackled me from the chair.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy to jump me like that?!" Nita joined a few seconds later and we were telling on the floor grappling one another. No fair
They were two against one. Hearing the commotion, Annie and Cass both jumped in. It was laughter and a few groans and a number of "you are hurting me". A while later we stopped. Panting and sweating. We lay there. It was good to be home again.

9th April 2019

I haven't used meth in days. All I was capable of right now was eating and sleeping. Slowly my body started to pick up weight. My father tried his best to keep me company and if he couldn't then my siblings would. Albeit irritating as hell. Smiling and laughing and not having to worry about how I would get my next fix or where I would get food. Not having to worry about looking over my shoulder every few seconds. Not having to worry about the paranoia and the delusions. The voices and the shadows. None of those existed. My mind was slowly clearing. Although there definitely was a heavy, tense atmosphere in the house.

After lunch my father came to my room and sat on my bed. I was toying with the cheap cell phone that I still could not recall where It came from. I tucked it away under my pillow. He noticed it hut didnt say anything. I wasnt actually hiding it.
"I wanted to ask you something but couldn't find the right time. He looked out the window for a few seconds." The day you left us, did you take the locket that was in the bathroom cupboard?" Shit. I actually did. Torn between wanting to tell him the truth and lying, I eventually chose the former. "Yes, I took it." I looked away and there was silence.

The locket was made from pure gold. A family heirloom from a age I couldn't even pronounce. Handed down generation after generation until eventually my father's. I didnt want to look at him but I forced eyes to meet with his. His face was full if different emotions but anger was not one of them. He slowly stood and walked out my room without saying a word. I sat there and took out the cell phone but my mind was completely distracted. Dammit man. I sold that little trinket for a measly R800. Pure gold. I could've gotten no less than R5000 for it. That's if I had a good connection. Alas, it's long lost. But somehow I had a feeling it was not too late.