Very Explicit=Trigger Warning
I was a child, living in Germany. Young, perhaps 4 or 5. My favorite pair of pajamas were yellow cotton. They consisted of a little short sleeved button up shirt and a pair of ankle length bottoms. I loved them so much, my mother had to sneak them from me to wash them. As soon as they were returned, I put them on before each night's rest, until they were taken again for a well needed washing.My father was a very violent man. Once, during our dinnertime, he beat my sister so badly, his hands began to bleed as he did so. There was food and drink all over the wall, the chairs were turned over, and there was blood on the floor as a result of his brutality. When he was finished, we all sad down and began to eat again as if nothing had happened.I found my solace in nature. It was so beautiful there. The grass was so very green, so soft, so moist in the Spring/early Summer. Once, as I was gliding my hand across it, I was stung by a bee. I had never been stung before. It truly did not hurt very much, but I didn't know what to do. I instinctively ran, crying, to my mother, as any child would in such a state.He began molesting me at that young age, with his fingers only. I know today, my sister had grown to an age wherein she was no longer appealing. Thus, he turned his attention on me. The transition was very difficult for her as he began to beat her unmercifully. My heart pours for her to this day.I would lay in the grass and stare at the sky. I would look at the clouds and see a soft solidity in them, as strands of silk. In my mind's eye, I would grasp them and wrap them around me as if they were a queen's royal gown. I dreamed of a beautiful place I did not know existed, for I did not know any other way to escape the reality of the horror of my home.Of course, his actions were acts of love. He adored me. He cherished me. I was his favorite. He worshiped the ground I walked upon. Those sickening sugary words were whispered to delude his vile intentions. I imagine more so for himself, than for me. I tried to climb trees, but was not very successful. I was always left bruised and scraped. I must say, though, I gave it my best shot and secretly envied those who could climb to the top. I still have not truly climbed a tree. I sit safely on the bottom branch. Someday, perhaps, I shall be able to find my way to the top. Due to my physical experiences and witnessing the beatings of my sister, I became invisible. I did not wish to be at the mercy of his violence. Instead, I became a creature at the mercy of his sickness. I died in Spirit and mind, yet my blood still flowed.My father died of a heart attack on July 31st, 2001. I was told his heart had died, but I secretly knew it had been dead for many, many years. In his cold hands, I placed a photograph of the two of us when I was that little girl, and a pink rose adorned by a bow created from a strand of seed pearls and translucent pink ribbon.I made him take me with him to his grave. It was both an act of love and an act of rage.
Replies
I\"m sorry you and your sister had to go thru to much both physically and mentally
I\'m sorry. Hugs
Thank you annettearizona and Veronica77.
What horror. I am so, so sorry.
Thank you donnawanda. It\'s okay.