I fall asleep to the sounds of my mother crying, echoed over and over in my
mind and my ears; a never-ending mournful song that I can do nothing to
stifle or ease.

I awake to the sounds of my father laughing; his smile fresh in my mind.
But, I am mistaken. Sleep is the only time I can ever see him.

I come home to the sounds of my sister’s screams; out of terror? Out of
fright? Out of anger? I do not know, for her face is a mask of thick ice not
to be broken.

I see a black hole of darkness, sadness, confusion, anger; when I stare into
my own eyes. A tiny teardrop creeps its way into my field of vision and
spills over onto my eyelid; crawling down my face.

What have I done?

I could have been their vision of perfection: smart, funny, talented,
beautiful; when they told me, I believed them. In all of this, nothing could
stop it.

I am helpless; I hate it.

How am I supposed to keep going?

He destroys me, they kill me; I trip and fall, no one to catch me, not even
my own arms to brace myself. I am breathless on the ground; or am I still
falling? Either way, I cannot bring myself to move.

No one sees that I have fallen, not a soul offers to help me up. So focused
on their troubles they cannot see the magnitude of mine, or that they are
multiplying by the minute and never seem to cease.

If I could lift myself up, I would. But my own strength is not enough.

I am just a child; just a girl.

What have I done?

How am I supposed to live?

Now I fall asleep to the feeling of a warm, salty tear run down my own
cheek. I roll over and I know, somewhere: my mother is crying, my father is
laughing, and my sister is screaming.

 
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