Tears and Birthday Cake
I walk down the street, rain dripping down my cheeks
I hear muffled voices from a house,
There are people surrounding a girl and a cake with candles,
Some look to be the same age as the girl, others seem to be older, maybe parents or uncles and aunts
I stop and just stare, I take a deep breath in and hold it
Now, I can't tell what's falling down my cheeks
I can tell, is that I have to get home before I get hurt even more than I already think I am
I finally let that breath out and start walking again,
To the place I wish I didn't know,
I walk up to the house and see all the lights off, but one
that can mean only one thing because it's only like that when something's happened
And that something is me.
I trod through the mud and step up on stair, then the next
Before I can even, the door swings right open and I'm pulled inside
Darkness is all I see, falling is all I feel
The door slams and I know what's coming
I don't cry, crying is for the weak
But I brace myself for the worst, the beating,
So bad, some would rather die.
But not me, I'm used to it, I've become immune
I feel the hand brush past mine and land right into my stomach,
I suck in a breath,
Okay, maybe not immune, but this could've hurt a lot more
There's silence, so I sit up
It's still dark and I can't see but I squint my eyes anyways
I feel the wind brush past my face,
The miss like a drunk bastard,
I slide, inch by inch, as quiet as I can
The floorboards betray me,
He groans and mumbles stupid bitch
He walks to me,
doing the opposite of me, making so much noise
Don't betray me now.
I slowly slide backwards,
I grimace from the pain from the hits
He inches closer
I slide to the left
Oh shit. I bump into a table.
I can sense that he turns to look at me
I curl into the smallest ball I can, not worrying about the pain
It'll only hurt more now that you've tried to run
He puts one.
Oh so slowly, I shake my head,
No, no. This is not how I end.
I can feel his breath.
The one time I'm glad he's drunk, senses are messed up.
My face tingles as his hand lightly brushes past,
Gentle as the wind now? More like the dough concrete.
Now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark, I see the figure of his hand move to the lamp
I put my hand down farther out,
I scream out in pain as I feel his foot connect with hand,
The light turns on.
I see his pupils retreat
I see his dirty scum face, smell his alcoholic breath, feel the heat from his body.
I'd rather. Die.
He puts his hand to me face
I try to smack it away but he smacks mine
And I let one.