Her darkness & His Beast

I didn’t have words to describe the moment words stopped spilling over my lips. It almost felt like that famous time-stopped moment. Not one single time did I dare lift my eyes from the cold wooden deck while I talked. I have bared every dark corner of my memories: anger, hurt, and despair. I felt alone and lost, striving for love and recognition when I, deep down, always knew I wasn't worth it, not in my father's eyes. I told him about bullying, outright torture, and evil.

The more I spoke, the more memories popped up. Like I opened a jar of darkness, and everything was let loose like death pearls on a row. How little I had felt the first time my father spotted the neighbor kids holding me down, lifting my shirt up. Everyone froze, and I cried for him, pleading for him to help me; instead, he turned his back and walked away. I still felt the pain in my heart the moment he broke the last strig of hope in it.

Warm tears still rolled over my cheeks, but I didn’t feel like I was crying;