Previously:
I stood in front of my father and cried, “I know why you
made me go to that school! Dad, when are you going to stop?”
He threw his glass of champagne and pulled out his belt.
“I don’t care if you hit me billion times! I care about you.
Dad, mom, please. This is not the first time I beg you to stop drinking!” I
yelled.
Then, as always, he started hitting me over and over again.
The bruises on my body and face were back.
Seeing him hurting me everyday and seeing my mom carelessly
watching us was probably the worst pain a human can ever go through.
When the closest people to you are the farthest to your heart.. really hurts.
I quietly went to the place my siblings were staying.
I smiled and hugged both of them, “Fahad, why do you look
sad?” my sister asked. I answered,” I’m not sad, I just miss you guys.”
“No, you’re lying! I just want to remind you of what you
told me, {one day the pain will go away.}
“
I went back to school, but I saw a bench that was out of the
school’s campus.
I sat on the bench and wrote:
‘I never asked you to
be my Dad,
To slap me around and
treat me bad.
I never asked you to
drink alcohol,
I never asked for
anything at all.
I never asked for the
hurt and pain,
Or for the nights that
were half insane.
I never asked for
fights that were wild,
Or to grow up a
bewildered child.
I never asked you to
beat up my Mom,
Or for a blanket to
help keep me warm.
I never asked you to
leave me alone,
Or to grow up in a
broken down home.
I never asked for this
horrible life,
Or for the conflicts,
the quarrels and strife.
I never once asked
that I be defiled,
Or to grow up a
bewildered child.
I never asked to be
raised in prison,
Or to see darkness
though the sun had risen.
I never asked you to
raise Holy Hell,
Or for my bedroom to
be like a jail cell.
I never asked to be
used and abused,
Or to sit in my room
dazed and confused.
I never asked for the
crap that has piled,
Or to grow up a
bewildered child.
I never asked for a
brand new bike,
Or for any toys that I
used to like.
I never asked you to
throw me a ball,
Or for the bruises
when I took a "fall".
I never asked once but
I'm asking you now,
I hope you make me
understand somehow.
How you could treat me
so freaking bad,
That I never asked you
to be my Dad.
**
I smell the whiskey on
your breath.
And you beg for me to
put your temper to the test.
You slap me around and
call me names.
Mom, I'm sick of
playing these games.
One day it's going to
end up getting worse.
It hurts me how you
yell and curse.
Stop it, before it's
too late.
Mom, this is not your
fate.
You used to care.
You used to be there.
Now you've gone away.
Mom, please stop
today.
Bruises and hits.
Temperamental fits.
All is causing me
pain.
Mom, stop yelling. I'm
not to blame.
You're drinking away
what's left of you.
It's hurting me, and
you're hurting me, too.
I've cried. I've
begged. What more can I do?
Mom, I've tried to
help. And I've tried to still love you.
It's hard when I'm
only neglected.
When all I ever wanted
was to be accepted.
I know I'm not
perfect, but look at you now.
Mom, you've got to
stop this somehow.
You've beaten me down
once more.
My heart's broken, and
I'm lying on the floor.
How much more of this
can I take?
Mom, please. Give me a
break.
You brought me into
this life.
And you cause me all
this strife.
But are you going to
take me out of this world, too?
Mom, stop before that
comes true.’
The End.
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Xx<3
(A note: young children who suffered with alcohol addict
parents wrote these two poems.)