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The hideous beast

A pale complexion with checks stained by tears, bruised eyes that can longer see the happiness in things, is the agonising slowly painted art piece of a shattered life.

The sun is setting like a hot coal. I look around at my surroundings to see if I can find any happiness walking home to such a hideous beast, but every flower, house or bird turns grey and lifeless, just like myself.
I always hope tonight’s my lucky night, that his anger had randomly died down into the depths of the earth, gone forever.
There were times he just left the punishment for the night, but I knew if he left me in peace for a night, the punishment would be more severe the next night, just thinking about him, a tear rolled down my rosy checks.
I arrive at the doorstep, lookup at the sun setting into the mountains above and pray to God before entering the hideous beasts home. With one big sigh, I cross my fingers behind my back and stepped into the cold house, I also call home.

There he is was, like a pig on the sofa, watching his favourite television show, drenched in sweat with a beer in this hand, I walk to my bedroom, as quiet as a mouse, I scurrile down the passage.
I close my eyes, scrunch myself into a ball and try to think less about my surroundings, but suddenly I hear the Television being switched off, and the floor boards begin to creek as the hideous beast stomps his way towards my bedroom.
I count his steps as I cannot see, the darkness has taken over and hideous beast is coming.

7, 8, 9 steps… He’s out of the lounge,
10,11,12 steps… I close my eyes and pray, for it could be my last chance.
13,14,15 steps…
16, he turns the door handle.
17,18,19 steps, he’s at my bed.

My blanket thrown off my cold body, his fists feeling like cold knifes being jabbed into my skin.
My entire existence feeling as if it were shattering into a million pieces and every night in the back of my mind I wish it was, so all the suffering and pain could end.
Is this what a father is supposed to do? Hurt you, abuse you and make you suffer, until you have no more tears, no voice to scream, so you just lay there as if you were a corpse in a living body.
It felt like hours had gone by since this hideous beast turned my door handle, and once again he will leave with no remorse, just a big smirk on his face.

I always hope he turns around and apologizes for all the pain he causes upon me, but he never does. He ruined every part of my childhood, for his own satisfaction, for his own pleasure, so what does that leave me with?
A life of being afraid of every man that walks past me, a life filled with utter fear of the dark because I could never see, the footsteps were the only thing I could reply on, his footsteps, the ones that haunted my dreams, that were supposed to be filled with rainbows, butterfly’s and imaginary creatures.

Sometimes I wished that I could wake up with amnesia, just so that my past could float away like clouds on a sunny day, and all the pain I feel won’t be just a memory, but something I will never remember.

He leaves the room, and his loud footsteps begin to fade, but the pain he caused me never will.


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