Why does everything happen for a reason if somebody is suffering? Is life worth achieving? or is it not worth it to fight? I'm fighting the urge not to push the knife into my pulse. My mind is telling me I should, but my body is telling me otherwise. My tears were falling like water that didn't stop. What happens if I cut my pulse? I know I will die, but would they be relieved or feel sorrow?
This will make them happy. Seeing me this vulnerable and unloved, they know to themselves that I'd rather give up than fight the life that I'm not worth achieving. Life is so unfair to me. No one loves me except my Bloppa. If only Bloppa was still alive, I wonder if I was still the same person six years ago..
She was a happy-go-lucky child with so much passion and dreams that she wanted to commit, but she was too focused on her childhood. Little did she know that it was slowly taking it all from her.
I frustratedly let go of the knife in my hand and pushed my hand to my face to cover the pain hovering all over me. The knife left a sound on the floor when I let go of it. My heart was aching, my mind was in chaos, my lips were trembling, and my eyes were floppy with the sudden cries.
Suddenly, the knock on the door made me jump. Fear was starting to build inside of me. Bullets of sweat were starting to form on my head and spread up my body. I didn't make any noise. I was still, quietly watching the doorknob try to open, forcing it to unlock, and someone behind the door wanted to come in and destroy her again.
No, no, please. Go away.
Her eyes widened in horror when it became more aggressive. I looked down at my feet and saw the knife; I didn't think twice and I picked it up, putting it on my back, and hiding it from the monster behind the door. With trembling hands, I got up and came closer to the door. I gulped. My hand was more intense, and I gripped the handle of the knife.
"Open the door! Sunny!" She heard the growl in his voice. She knew to herself that she was used to her father, but she still can't help but be nervous, especially since she knows what he was going to do to her.
"Papa…" I said.
"Open this damn fucking door or I'll break it, Sunny. You know I hate it when you're not listening to me." She heard the threatening voice. I got more nervous, and my heart was pounding so loudly that it started to trigger my anxiety.
"Papa, please stop. I still have bruises on me. It still hurts; please, let me rest." I pleaded as I heard the unpleasant curse in his voice. I jump on my feet when the loud thug comes from the door and tries to break it.
"You fucking listen to me and open it, and I will never hesitate to kill you once I open this door!" He said it impatiently.
"Stop it, Papa!" She shouted. Fear was even more intense, and her chest was bouncing back and forth as she tried to keep herself on the beat of her breath.
"I'm warning you, Sunny!" One thug on the door and it will break, and he will go in. The rush was making her think about a possible way he could touch. She pushed the sofa closer to the door so he wouldn't come in. But it's useless because the door is getting more and more damaged.
No!
"I'm not used to your game, Sunny. I will give you another chance to open it or you'll be getting more lashings out of the bruises on your body and you won't get up if you are still choosing your pride."
She knew to herself that she was fighting not for her pride but for her safety. And getting away with her father will be the best choice. He is the darkest, maddest, and worst person on the planet of universe I've ever encountered. And I'm one of his toys of relief.
Standing still. Watched the doorknob break and fall to the ground. My eyes widened in horror when a big hand tried to unlock the other locked door, and with one click it opened, and with so much strength, he pushed the door firmly. I gasped. The sofa was put aside slowly, and he was groaning as he fought the urge to let himself in the room.
With trembling hands and a knife on my back, I stepped backward, afraid that he might struggle me to death. I cried helplessly. I think of a possible way to survive the night: either I let him hit me or stab him to death, leaving me with a conscience over her death. But he deserves it after all he did to me, but one thing is for sure: I don't want to hurt him because he is still my father.
The rush was starting to assault me. I think of a possible solution to make my way out of this nightmare. I looked to my side and saw a window open. The cold wind was blowing and brushing against my skin, which made me both thrilled and afraid. The moon was peeking inside my room and illuminating my shadow from behind. I could jump, but with a broken ankle and broken bones in exchange.
This house was a mansion. I could jump ten feet tall of a house but I will have a fracture on my body. This is the only way I could think of. Another groan, and Papa was purposely inside my room. I am lucky enough he didn't see me in the living room, because he will drag me to the basement, which is full of dust and has a dirty floor. The door opened, and he enjoyed hurting me in front of his family.
But I am still not lucky enough to let this nightmare pass. If I jump, my leg will be broken first, and in that case, he still has a chance to chase me and bring me back home, and he will use sharper tools to hurt me again. If I hurt him, I might be in jail. with full or fearless people. innocent and a murderer.
What is the wiser choice?