One night, in particular, Blue was making her normal routine of getting ready for bed. She had brushed her teeth, packed her school bag, and checked her clothes out she would wear for the next day, to school. Everything was going just like usual when she overheard an argument that was taking place inside her parent’s bedroom. That was not out of the ordinary in her house but she was afraid that because of this fight her father would take out his frustrations on her. Anytime her mother and father fussed, she was usually the one who would reap the repercussions of the argument. Usually, her father would be agitated and require her to do stupid things to appease his agitation. She often wondered why her brother never seemed to be bothered by all of it. She counted herself less fortunate than him anyway. Just her luck, if you will.
She heard the door to the bedroom get slammed as she hurried and ran into her room and cut her light off as if to appear in the bed already. This usually deterred her father, but not tonight. Tonight he was fuming and she just knew she was in for it. She lay quietly listening to every footstep, every word, and every noise as if she could change the inevitable. At least it prepared her somewhat, in other words, she would not be caught off guard. Her mother, without knocking, entered her room and told her goodnight. She asked her mother if everything was okay and her mother replied, “get some sleep.” She could tell her mother was upset and had been crying. Just then she heard her father, ” Blue come here”. “Oh dear”, she thought to herself. Her mother was in the bathroom with the door closed and water running, so she could not hear anything. Blue was unsure of what to think about her father asking her into his bedroom, especially when she appeared to had gone to bed already.
As she opened the door to the bedroom, she could not see much of anything, it was pitch black. No light and she could hear her father breathing. She asked him why was the lights out, and he told her to come next to him. Unsure as to where she was she walked till her feet hit the bed and she could feel the side of the bed, the sheets, and her father. He took a hold of her hand and drew her closer to him. She was not sure what was happening, and it felt so weird to be in this type of exchange. Her starting touching her shoulder and going down her arm, one after the next. He asked her if she loved him, and would she ever leave him? She was not sure why those type of questions were being asked and she replied , “yes I love you and why do you ask that?” He said he needed her to stay with him. He also wanted her to lean down and let him hug her, him, while he was under his covers, in a pitch black room. Blue felt ass if there was more to this, and she soon found out. He took her hands and maneuvered them to where he wanted them to be. It was horrible for Blue. She was scared and helpless to defend herself.
She jerked herself away from him and he grabbed her arm and would not let her leave. She did not know what to do except fight all his attempts. He held her against his chest as his breathing picked up. He was obviously not wanting a hug, and she knew it. Her efforts were no match for his strength. She felt herself tearing up and wanted desperately to leave. He told her he was naked under those covers and she told him she did not need to know that. Blue was horrified and was contemplating whether she should holler out for her mother or just run out of this hell. He grouped her and told her that he loved her and that she was his little girl and nothing would change that. He told her to get into the bed with him but Blue said no way and ran out of the room.
This was just one of those times she had with her father. he would do this more than not and he did not care how it made her feel.
Most of the time she felt a deep sickness for the relationship she had with her father. She wanted it all to leave her alone. She did not understand why he felt those unnatural desires and the need to do those things. It would take until her adulthood before she would make sense of it all. Even still, she barely could.
Some people are just sick. Some people feel the need to make themselves powerful by making someone else feel weak. Sometimes, life is unfair and terrible.
Blue never quite knew how strong she could be, till she had no other choice. To be continued... MwsR
Ah, a visit from the past
Has yet again taken my peace
I often throw caution to the wind
But this time, it was like I was pinned.
It did something
Something, I stand so hard against
Yet still it kept me in its circumstance.
After the thought and past refkection
I wept to help clear my soul
But alas, its still firm hold!
Never knew trying was so hard
And that it would flip the switch, the way it did, today
If I’m to heal, how much more must I try to say?
What is left?
Apparently, my heart
I felt it tugging at me, pressing me to be smart
I failed to head its warning to me
Now I am so scared,of the who I came to be.
That is not what is being free.
Burden has become a plate I lack the hunger for
Yet, it piles on more and more.
Wishing to be free,
If thats possible for me.
It’s Yours… By MWSR
What would it take to heal the sick and “cure” heartache?
What would you yourself give if a peaceful life you could live?
What chains would you break so your destiny you could make?
What twist would you spin to save the life of a dear friend?
Life is about changing…messing up and rearranging.
You can choose to go down fighting or loose all your enlightening.
The power’s within you.
Go make your path that’s out there underneath the sky of blue.
Looking for something to do with all those tomatoes you are getting from your garden. Here is a recipe that is sure to help you out.MwsR
Recipe by Andy Baraghani
There are multiple stories about Beethoven’s now-famous last words. One report said he stated, “I will hear in Heaven.” Another report attributed “Plaudite, amici, comedia finita est” to the famed composer (“Applaud, friends, the comedy is finished”). And yet another story says someone brought him a dozen bottles of wine, to which he replied: “Pity, pity, too late.”