silence | Teen Ink

silence

October 8, 2008
By Anonymous

This rage inside me is getting so intense. we're fighting again,i don't remember what it's about but i dont care.the anger and pain is building up inside me. It rips and tears like a monster in my gut. My dad keeps pushing me into the wall, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make me want to hurt him and then i do.i snap. its like the monster inside me escapes and i punch him. it happens so fast and so slow at the same time, i feel my fist and his face connect then i hear the crack of his nose. somewhere in the back of my head im thinking "oh, cool, i broke his nose." all at once strong and impowerd and scared. i run to the kitchen thinking he is going to come after me. but, he dosnt. he's just standing there holding his nose and saying over and over again "you broke my nose you, you broke my nose." im standing there as stund as he is, i have tried to punch him before but i allways missed. i can smell the blood on the ground. it makes me want to vomit. its as if the monster in my belly has died leaving his rotting corpse to burn my throught.i run to my room.tears run down my face as i hear my sisters yelling at me through the walls and my mom banging on the door making the room shake. the next day the will be silence. after my mom is done taking me on a guilt trip and my dad is done passing out punishments there will be silence. i love that silence. like the quiet after a storm its peasful and calming to me. i know this because i have been through it a million times. i know it so well that im sure i could write you a map right to the end. except there is no end. it keeps on going and going, like a cycle that never stops. i lay in my bed holding on tight to a pillow, so tight i fell as if the pillow is the only thing that is keeping me grounded. im starring at the wall, just starring, hopping to god or whoever that one day this cycle will stop spining. everyone has gone to bed by now but im still crying to drained to do anything else. i see a spot of dried blood on my knuckle. i put the knuckle to my lips.it tases like pennies. i spit on the carpet. eventually, i stop crying an fall asleep


The author's comments:
Good writers write about what they know.
this is what i know.

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