11 years

It's been 11 years since that night... Since the argument between my parents finally escalated to something terrible, despite my mothers' innocence and that she was only sticking up for herself. 11 years since he beat her mercilessly, punched her, dragged her by the hair, slammed her against the concrete sidewalk, threw her into the metal fence around the pool, and so much more I've either made myself forget or didn't witness.

I still remember my brother and sister waking me up. I still remember looking out the window to see my mother there. I still remember wondering what the fuck went wrong, what she could have possibly done to deserve that, why my father wasn't upstairs, and if he was downstairs, why he wasn't helping her. Somewhere in the back of my head I think I already knew he had done it but I desperately didn't want to believe it for the sake of the family. I still remember the police officer who came upstairs to check on us and the tantrum I almost threw when he wasn't downstairs helping my mom.

It's been 11 years since that, since my father got off without punishment, since the 18 month protection from abuse, since my mother left him, since we moved in with my grandmother, since the nights where we would stay up crying, desperately afraid he would kill us in our sleep. 11 years since I first developed post-traumatic stress disorder, have been flinching horribly, have nearly cried at the sound of a loud voice in an angry tone...

I don't want to stay in this place. Why can't I just get over it...? It's been 11 years... My siblings either deny it or ignore it, why can't I be that low...? Why do I have to the big boy, despite being the youngest? Why do I have to be one of the only ones who's still hurting? Why did he get off without punishment? Why is that fucker still alive? How much longer is he gonna be alive? When is God going to finally judge him? Why isn't God answering my prayers? Is he going to Hell at all? Am I the one going to Hell for holding onto this hatred?

Most of all, why did I have to choose this time to throw a fit about one of the only persons who cared about me and push her away from me when I desperately need someone there for me?

This hurts. So much.