dedlyniteshade

sanity is yet a dream to me ,because when i awake the scars are still there, memories of when i was helpless, the damage too deep to repair, when i dream around this time of year its mostly about his cold hazel eyes, and how cold and worn his hands were across my face when he tried to muffle my cries, i still hear the fast paces tapping of my feet across the hallway floor, i had put on shoes and laced them up , planning to flee out of the front door. i still feel the palpatating in my chest when he finally stopped me near the den with that look on his face, i fled to my brothers room, aiming for my secret hiding place. i remember leaping for the tiny hiding space id made behind the bed, i leapt a bit too early,left unconscious from smacking my head, i awoke to the sound of my parents car, i thought thank god it was all a dream, but when i felt the pain rush down below, it became as real as it could seem... the threat of death kept me silient, i didnt speak til i was a teen, by then the mental damage was done, contorting my mind, making me cold, callus and mean, its been nearly 20 years and around this time still makes me shake in fear, remembering the time i couldnt defend myself, the years i couldnt see or think clear... these scars will always remind me that when i was a child monsters were real, and that my first memories of adolecence are not ones i wish to feel, the devil has to be real to me because i find peace thinking of that man burning in hell, tis one of the few thoughts in my mind that make me feel somewhat well, so this is why my birthday is not as happy to me as it be could be and should, 7years old and he bought me a toy my parents couldnt afford but he apparently could, no gift is worth the price of pain, no child should ever have to feel, no one should be haunted like this, no terrors should be this real.................