Violent. Part Two.

   Part One

    It finally ended . Though I wish it ended differently. One day , my father went back from the pub and the whole household knew how the routine was. Thanks to Ben, I was eight by now.  I couldn't live without those drugs . They seemed to make everything easier to cope with. It was normal for me even though it was painful. Ben hid me under the bed when my father was searching for me. High and low , he knew where I was but Ben wouldn't let him in.

    I stayed there, under the bed , curled up like a ball. It wasn't loud like usual . It was quiet. I could see three pair to of legs which belong to those who thought that I'm sort of toy.

    Tonight, instead of arguing, it was laughter. Something was wrong. I heard punches, screams and laughter. I closed both my eyes and ears. " God, take my life away now " I kept repeating the same thing again and again. I heard Ben. His voice. I believe that everything would be normal again. I will end up to see Ben . He would give me his hands , bringing me out from there, dress me and fed me up. Like usual.

     That morning, the light woke me up. There was blood all over my body through my hair and clothes. I looked up , the blue mattress turns red. I crawled out not knowing what to expect.

   " Ben..."

     The only person in my life , who care so much about me more than my parents did , was lying there. I wasn't even going to believe that it was him. Until I saw his feet which were the only part of him that looked normal. He nearly didn't have a face. With all the blood all over me, I hug him. Tightly. I was breathless. I was devastated.

     I was there at the cemetery. Seeing Ben for the last time. He just don't deserve that. I sit beside his grave every single moment. Talking to him like usual days. Until my mom come back a week Ben's dead. I'm missing around 3 months of my life. Hardly believe that there're no more Ben. No more hugs. No more love. " Ben. I miss you "

      Years by years, I went from house to house. From counselor to counselor . I've tried to commit suicide twice. At 11, I'm getting better and ready for school. Until now, I still had the nightmares . My grey past years.

      It's hard to describe the things I've been going through before. I miss Ben. If it wasn't for me he would be alive , but there's so many ways to look upon it . If he hadn't die, I may have still be there. With the violence . He released me.

Thanks to him , I am here now. I'm not ashamed of who I am , just where I come from.