…..but, honestly, I’m horrible at keeping things up. I’m a turtle…except when I’m drunk. Then I’m a drunk, laughing…turtle. Still. I wanted to be able to open myself up more… Have people listen, other than my family who all have their own problems. Just have friends.. real friends. I’ve never been a people person… I wanted to try though.
But all of this, is nothing compared to what just went down with my family. A problem, one that I have no one to talk to about….and I’m just lost here, guys. Because my sister has a boyfriend of a few years who beats her face.
That face that’s in all of our family pictures and nostalgic videos I take with me at college.
Tonight, her face was bruised and red, and my sister was crying. Again, over this asshole that doesn’t deserve her. I can’t even type out the evidence to back that statement up. Abusive. Greedy. Selfish. Fucking fat ass who eats up all his money for weed and drugs. Forced unprotected sex to keep her chained to him. Miscarriages. Abortion. Blames her for their problems. Has hit my sisters face THREE times that I even know about. She stays with him because a past boy burned her alive when he broke it off for another girl. Four years and she’s still a tattered piece of that little face in my kid pictures.
That bastard hits her and she dares to still look me in the eye and tell me she has nowhere else to go. She has us, this house she hates so much and these stained walls…our anger, our fights, our bad jokes. She has this house. The room we shared as kids. That cheesy old shelf we painted with sharpie. I want her happy, and she’s far from it. This house wouldn’t make her happy….but it could be the start.
She sleeps beside that monster because she thinks he’s the best she’ll get now, after everything… she’s 21. She’s too young to feel like she’s nothing. To have this world beat the hope and self worth out of her before she’s even lived properly.
I called my sister pathetic tonight, for not standing up for herself. For staying, for not seeing that she can kick him out. I hate myself for that. I hate her choice. I hate that fat fuck who’s neck I’ve never wanted to feel break more between my fingertips, and that’s fucking terrifying. This shit? It’s not a fucking movie, or tv show, or plot line. He’s in her uncle’s house and that is a privilege. She can tear him away. But she won’t and I’m so fucking angry at her for it. At him. At what I said.
Tonight was horrible, and I know I’ll wake up tomorrow and she’ll do the same…beside him.
I wanna meet someone’s who’s going to be like ‘hey wake up I’m taking you on an adventure’
OH YES, PRETTY PLEASE
Orange Is the New Black is a story of…