The Silence Of The Broken

chapter seven...

Dear journal,
     The day to submit our group work is creeping up on me and I haven't written a single line. Fuck!, I can't even get that dweeb to shut up and try to work with Daisy and I.
      Something fishy is going on with mum, she's more alive and she's been in and out of the house. But I won't ask her. She'll tell me on her own. Then there's the appointments to see the therapist.. Oh God.

    
I closed the journal and stared out of my window into the cloudless night.

It was just 7:30 and it was a Saturday night and mum had gone out today. This was the first time I was spending time alone in the house at night and i was feeling a little claustrophobic.

I don't blame her for wanting to enjoy her life a little.it wasn't her fault I was a loner and highly misanthropic but I was angry that she gets to go out to see a movie today without the scars and without the feeling of being caged and utterly lost.

Secretly I wished for that but I was too broken and messed up to even try to achieve it so there wasn't any need to dream.

Sighing deeply I pressed play on my phone, I can't remember when last I held one but this was my first time I was using the damn thing after my mum begged me to use it at least and so here I am.

The sweet sad depressing voice of 'Billie Elisih' filled my ears as I walked the short distance to my bed and plopped down on it.

Wanting and wishing I had something else to add to my life to make me feel unbroken, slowly her voice lured me to sleep.

        B-a-b-y!!, Come out! Come out and play!.

       I was well hidden in the broom closet, I was tiny enough to fit and I had bruises on my arms and forearms.

      God in heaven. How did I get here, what's going on!.

Those thoughts were fighting for space as the sound of my heart hammered in my ears and the sounds of things got upturned, cracked, broke and shattered in frightening pieces.

   All my mind kept saying was 'squeeze in tighter, squeeze and mold your body to the outline of the closet.

He won't see you!. He won't touch you!. He can't burn you!. Not here, cover your mouth with your trembling hands Maeve.

He can't hear you if you close your mouth and press it tighter' and so I did everything my mind commanded because everything was happening at once but then something striking happened,

      Quiet...

  The house was eerily quiet...

Was he gone?

Was I safe?

Was it ok to try to listen and try to escape?!?.

I tried my luck and decided to lean forward to listen to his foot steps but there was none and so I felt the relief wash over me as I felt he was gone but I knew how this dream ended and it wasn't good. It never was.

   I saw an eye and immediately let go of my mouth to scream.

" No! No! Nooo!! Please No!"

" Let me go please"

" I won't tell I promise please let me go"

" Get your hands off me"

" No please, don't burn me please"

" Not again please mummy help meee pleaseeeee!!!"

I don't know when my mum came back home but I know she rushed to my bedroom and tried holding me while trying to bring me back from my nightmares.

"Shh shh, Maeve it's alright"

  " It's just a dream"

" Hunny come back to me"

  "He can't hurt you anymore Maeve"

" Wake up!.".

She was crying but I was jerking and screaming being tormented and trapped in my horror dream it was too much.

until I stopped thrashing and screaming and burst into violent tears, an emotion I reckoned with tragically.

"He'll find me mum!"

"He'll kill me"

" He won't let me go!"

" Mummy help me. Please tell him to stop. Make the pain stop mummy. Just make it stop. Why does it hurt so bad. Just make it stop".

She was slowly running her fingers through my black hair and she was patting my back as a means of calming me down. We stayed cradled in each other's arms. Neither of us sleeping but calm enough that the only sounds heard were my quiet sobs.

   
     "Maeve,are you ok?"

I didn't even bother to try to hide my red rimmed eyes. I had forgotten to take my meds yesterday and now the horrors natural sleep brought me was etched in my brain, painfully reminding me about my fears but not telling me why or how.

Do you understand what it felt like to be stuck in a dream you didn't fully understand?

  "Yes. I'm ok. I'll take my meds today. Don't worry too much".

I'm such a terrible liar,I just didn't want her to feel pity for me or worse try to help me cause I looked pitiful.

Thankfully, my mum didn't pursue the subject and just let me be on my own. She has seen my worst horrors unfold while I slept and you wonder why sleep and I are on different ships, bloody thing hates me well the feeling is mutual.

Sundays are supposed to be a day for worship, to thank God for the abundance and the safety that you feel.

But here I was , staying in.

lying on my stark white bed, facing my plain ceiling and been blank about the idea of praising God.

I hadn't slept a wink since after my trip down horror Lane and so I looked like a live in version of 'The walking Dead'.

Most people would go to church and sit on the pews or even kneel.

Listen attentively to their parish pastors and hear the choir shout the words 'hallelujah and praise God' from time to time while singing enchanting songs about heaven and about God's mercies.
  

I believed that God existed, I just felt he didn't love me. He didn't care if I lived or joined the mass of teenagers who committed suicide in a year.

I felt he didn't believe in me and tagged me a hopeless cause seeing how broken and shut down I was.

I don't really blame him. Who would? If he loved me then he would have never let him do what he did. Or at least make me recall what exactly happened so I could help myself and not feel so helpless.

And so I sank further into my abyss slowly preparing for the weekdays and the mask I'd wear to avoid questions and further tagging.