Beyond Our Expectations

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You Don't Know The Abuse

My dad’s piercing voice - Ah, He shall never be called “dad” - echoes in my ears, but I had to give in. That is the least mean to subsist.

“Yes, Dad. I am coming!”
“You bigot! Come down, now, or-”
“I am on my way, Mr Mortz. Within a fragment of a second, I will be by your side.”
“I am glad, Miss Bigot Head.”

This name is infuriating me since my first day here. I feel a deep urge to call him “Mr Red-eyed Devil”. My shoes emitted a squeaky noise as I dashed down the stairs.

“Agh. Yes, Mr Mortz-”
“You dassant be such an impudent bigot! How in hell can you be this disrespectful!”
“But, Sir, what have I done wrong?”
“Excuse me? Tell me what have you done right! Go and wash the dishes! Mrs Mortz is leaving with her friends. I am heading for work by now. I swear by the seven, freaking heavens I will haunt you in your sleep if I come and find not the house gleaming! Go, bigot. Get the work done.”

My legs froze in place, and tears drenched my eyes.

“Stupid head! Why are you waiting here?!”

“I- Sir- I will- I -”
“No More speaking. I am leaving now. I swear if I could ever sell you, I would give you off in some trash bag and wait for no money in return. You see that dumpster at the end the street; it looks like your face. Get going!”

The door shut after a matter of seconds, and I let out a desperate sigh.

Why am I stuck here! Why!

I immediately wash the dishes, get the laundry done and clean up the house. Once I am done, I decide to take a nap in my room.

I could sense some idiosyncratic presence within me. For the thousandth time, I find myself submerged in a voracious sea of anguish. My body aches in such an unbearable manner, and I find bruises emerging from every curve in my body.

I fight a battle everyday,
As my joy dissipates like hay.

I annihilate every piece and sliver
Of the agony that causes me to dissever.

I have held on for too long,
And ended up singing my monotonous song.

I set up all my flagrant swords,
Ready to break the curse of words.

Some itching sensation cuts off my covert cogitations, but then I realize it isn’t any itch. It is that leather belt striking my skin with all might...

Before I could fathom any of this enigma, I realize it is Mr Mortz. He must be exasperated. Within an instant, I find his face resplendent with crimson shades.

Another strike. But this one seemed to summon the giant within me.

I abruptly lost my consciousness, and then woke up to find blood dripping from the sides of my arms. I rise up furious with Mr Mortz, and wear on my growling mask.

“Miss lackadaisical bigot! You dassant growl at me!”

Afterwards, He throws a fist at my face, and blood trickles down my countenance. This is excruciating. I will pass away from exsanguination.

“You, Mr Red-eyed Devil! If this world shall reach to it’s demise, I promise you would be the litter and scum of the universe! All you master at is violence. Congratulations, Sir! You win the Devil’s Championship. You would burn in eternal hell!”

Before he could say anything or even retort to violence, I take a sprint out of the house.

I tread the murky streets of the town, recalling back every inch of Mr. Mortz’s countenance. The bloody aroma incessantly preoccupying him mind-boggles me and stimulates my veins to throb. Some entwined, missing figment lies there about my father. He always disappears early at morning and late at night.

My feet wobble as I walk further the town. I am the only being dashing down the streets at such an hour. The resplendent gloom captivates my anguished soul. The only hint of light trickles shyly across the skies, as the moon wears on its blackened veil. All I could do at the instant was murmur some lyrics rooted within my mind.

“I walk down the streets
Hurling all my dreams

Nothing now saves me!
No one welcomes me.

It’s like I’ve lost my life
Out in the night
When everyone’s out of sight.

Forlorn I stay
At 3 00 Am
Holding on
For what could’ve
Never been.

Stay awake
Close to fear
You’ll never savor


Nothing now saves me!
No one welcomes me.

It’s like I’ve lost my life
Out in the night
When everyone’s out of sight.

Everyone is out of sight.
Everyone is gone.
Everyone is gone.
Everyone is gone.”

As I walk further, my power slowly dissipates until the moment I collapse to the ground.


“Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?!”

“We are always here. By your side. Eyana, set on your errand for your quest!”

“Mom? Don’t leave, please. At least not this time!
God! God! Damn this life! Why do I have to watch everything slip away between my fingers! Why is it always me! Am I not a human! Am I not a human!”

A million thoughts splinter my mind and fall into intricate slivers.
How can I subsist when my life has lost its value? Perish. Obelisk. This is it! Obelisk of thoughts! Think! Am I fading away! I feel not a limb of my body. It must be my demise.

I devour those ephemeral moments of tranquility and pray God they would last. Just before I drift away into a deep phantasm, I find some bulging out balloon slapping my face. The worst part is that it contained a foul-smelling black tar. It must have garlic added to it. Before I could unravel any of this, I am attacked once again.

I struggle to rise up to my feet, when I the sight of Jeo instantly strikes me and stabs me in the heart.

Jeo has always been the so-called hot guy of Masterfield High School. With his broad shoulders, tall demeanor and snow white countenance, every girl in our school dreams to date him. The notion of him dating different girls every week makes me nauseous. I shoot at him a look of abhor, and he instantly bunches me in the stomach. I drop to the floor helpless, praying for mercy.

A cluster of his gangsters gather around me in a circle, and at top of all, Jeo stands facing my fragile body. He eyes me like some litter messing up their day.

Not too long afterwards, I find him stepping towards me, placing his one of his giant-like feet on top of my chest. I shriek in pain, but no one needs me. Instead, they all burst into giggles.

“Everyone! Listen, here! Whoever comes near this trash is star-crossed. Pay attention to what I will say-”
He pulls my hair vigorously, raising up my head while still placing his foot on top of me. Tears submerge by bruised face.

“This, Eyana, is as worthless as that- you see that trash bin- well, even that bin might be much more worthy than her. This is our war. Jeo or Eyana. If you choose me, you choose power. But look at that helpless, worthless scum!”

They all nod their heads in assent, and I am left here forlorn when they all walk away, pointing at me and shooting names at me.

Where am I to go now? Hell, I wish this ground might split open and devour me!

I try to skip the school day, but I know the consequences. Beaten back there at home. I walk in the school, and dash across the corridors while my head is bowed to the ground. I shut the bathroom door immediately and stare blankly at my reflection in the mirror for quite a while.

Puffing bloodshot eyes. Blackened, ashen, bruised face. Scars at the sides of my eyes, arms and mouth. Messed up hair. Garlic-smelling trash. This is me.

Where did the winsome, ecstatic child vanish? Was she annihilated? Was she buried alive? Was she intoxicated with hatred to the brink of death? Was she in hell? Or heaven? Where is me! Where did I vanish! Where did I evanesce!

This is the story of a girl of whom I once called merry. She is gone...

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