Dear Mom,
I hope when you look back, you find something good about these past years, because i cant. Yes you took me out, where i needed to be, you bought me clothes, fed me, all of those things. Maybe you could have been a good mom. But everything came with a price. Perfection was, and is expected, and anything less and i'm left wondering why i'm still alive? i mean really whats my point? your already expecting me to kill myself, you pretty much built me up to it. i just want to know, everytime your temper took over, and your fist slammed into my face, my ear, your hand closed around my hair, throwing me to the floor, and than yanking me back up, was it worth it? seeing me crying in shame, cowering away from you in fear, even now! Im still afraid that all of these miraculous changes you say have happened are going to end. Hey, wait! they did. guess what! you broke your promise, the single promise i wanted more then anything for you to keep. You hit me again. and then told me that you had made drastic changes, while i did nothing! i'm sorry, i cant be enough. I'm sorry i'm a failure, and a cop out. I guess its a good thing you never really wanted me in the first place.
You've broken my heart before, many times. Every time i feel like i manage to get some work started on repairing the damage, you come and tear it all into pieces, leaving it darker then before. Yeah... i'll give you its been a long time since you hit me, up until a few weeks ago that is. one month about before then, you did.. but before that it had been a few years i think. But you didnt really change. After all, if you continued to hit me, you might have lost your favorite punching bag. So you made it verbal. Every comment, so negative, so much scorn and hatred, i know you dont love me. How dare you tell me you do, when the next words i know i'll hear are about how i fail. I wanted to do good once upon a time. But like all fairy tales, its not real. Now i just dont care anymore.
I wish i could erase time, go back, and just let it be. maybe if i told someone sooner? but no. You told Amy... and Dad knew. Neither did nothing to stop you. Why didnt you hit Casey? was i really so bad that it wasnt even worth doing anything to him? Why was it me? Thats the question i desperately want to know the answer to. Why me when i had no one to defend me? when my little brother could do nothing but watch. He didnt know what to do when you would drag me by my hair and threaten to throw me through a window. Neither did i.
There were so many times in school i'd come in crying, and i'd defend you! i dont know why i did. Maybe if i told someone, it wouldnt have come down to this. The worst part is, i've blamed myself for everything for so long. I know i made so many mistakes, was such a horrible child. But does that make any of it right? Ask yourself that today mom, as you stand over me, watching my pale waxen face as they close the cover of the casket. Ask yourself. was it worth this?
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