Whatever happened to “daddy’s little girl?”
I want to fucking run away, I want to die or get fucked up to escape the pain—no I want to crawl out of this hole I’ve dug myself, take a deep fucking breath and make the best of my life but I can’t he just never stops. Dad comes stumbling into my room and drunker than shit. “You’re room is a fucking mess.” He grabbed all my dresser drawers and threw them all over my room. Papers flew everywhere. “God what fucking time did you start drinking?” I thought to myself. This was routine—something normal. “You’re grounded.” He yelled after letting the drawer smash my toe.
I sit on my bed staring outside the window, crying. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. I feel like I live with the Devil. I hear my dad screaming at my mom, the words muffled—opening my door I hear my dad call me a little boy as he throws my skateboard into the trash can. “Can you just fucking stop already? It’s my fucking Birthday.” My Mother yelled back at him. Dad’s eyes froze and it was finally silent.
The fucker couldn’t even treat his own wife with respect. I remember that it hurt watching her hurt. He was an asshole. All she ever wanted from him was love, respect and support. And he couldn’t deliver any of those traits. It was nothing but booze, sex and jokes. Life isn’t a joke…
I fucking hate you.