dressed in black- (01/99)
i killed him. i laugh, but i don't understand why the tears fall. did i hear him speak my name as the final breath left his body? he was my father. my creator. he gave me life and slowly took it away. he killed my dreams, my hope for living. always locked up in my room hearing his bullshit sermons on how i should be the best daughter. many nights i would be awakened by footsteps that seemed to approach closer to my bed. i would pretend i was asleep but i would see him carrying that knife towards my neck. this is the end, i thought. but he never did it. never took my life. his only duty was to make it a living hell.
one of those nights he beat me. i saw the baseball bat swing to my head and i knew no more. the day after i would wake to find a stain of dry blood that came from the beating. it was the only evidence to remind me that i was still alive.
a lifeless body walked me everyday. depression invaded my personality. i was no longet the happy little girl i once was. i was locked up from the world, hiding inside myself. i dressed in black to hide my pain, the anger i felt for him and everything around me. i was a morbid soul, with nothing to look forward to. it all had to end.
it was i who took the knife, which took his life. but i realized that it wasn't hate i felt, but pity. i thought that by killing him i would get rid of my darkness but it only made me realize how empty i was and my fahter, like me, had gone through the same. it was all a cycle of hell. generations of torture. i killed him and kept the emptiness and anger that he left with me. now i am even more the lifeless body dressed in black waiting for my destiny.
8:06 p.m. - 2002-11-19
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