Two
yearsagoWhen I was a small kid, I always wanted a perfect family where we would always be happy. We would go to parks, my parents would teach me how to ride a bicycle, we would have weekend plans, go to picnics and most importantly enjoy time with each other, but all my dreams and hopes shattered into pieces when I first saw my father beating my mother. For a five-year-old, such a moment shouldn't exist. It hit me hard like I was daydreaming and fell off the bed on the cold hard floor.
I don't know what happened that day, but from then on my heart started losing its pieces and I couldn't keep it together. As if subconsciously, an unbreakable wall was being built around me without my knowledge. Not to keep me safe, I suppose, but to push me farther away. I tried, and I tried my best to make our family really happy, make things alright, but it was not that simple.
The fights between my parents intensified as my elder brother Jason and I got older and the next thing I knew, I was pushing them away from me. It did not help when I came to know that my father never wanted me, he wanted another son in the Dawson family. So I started pushing him away from me. My mother wanted a girl alright but not exactly the person I was but still she was the one with whom I could at least talk without being shut down.
Lastly, my brother. He... you would expect that out of all the things that happened, he would at least be supportive but turns out he was more interested in the assets and the numbers. He never liked me and I don't know why, but he always tried to downcast me like I am a worthless "luggage".
The friends I had were not reliable and always temporary. No one seemed to stick around. Maybe because I am anti-social, or I never opened up to them. Never talked too much, didn't say anything when teased, and just smiled at every situation because that was the only mask that made everything in my life seem okay to others. The sufferer in silence kind. All those years of trauma have done left a mark. My father beats me, my brother beats me, and my father makes my brother beat me. That is why I suppose I turned out to be this way.
All these years they behaved like whatever they did to me was right, and I should be treated like that and all these years I asked God to take me first than to let me watch them go and I still wish for the same. I don't know whether I love them or not, but I can never bear the thought of them suffering. I always hoped that all through that hatred, somewhere in some corner of their heart, maybe they love me too.
Like a moment stuck in time, it was hard to ever forget the things that happened and the things that still happen. An eternal reminder of the things that churn like a vicious cycle coming back to me every time they did what I thought they can't do again, not worse than what I have been through before. Needless to say, the shock was never a surprise.
I was 16 when I had my first panic attack.
And they thought I had some kind of breathing problem.
Which does not require any medical care?
I am Rose Dawson and this is my tragedy.
"Rose! Wake up! We are fucking late for school! Get your lazy ass up!" "Five minutes more please!" "Oh hell no! You get up now, missy!"
I remember, when I used to live with my family I was never happy. Always criticizing and finding flaws in myself and my surroundings, which used to make me feel low. Insecurities brewing more than the actual reality. My fingers don't wrap around my arm.
During these nineteen years of my life, I have never come across a novel or movie where they show the reality. It's such a great irony that whatever they show never happens in real life. Or perhaps they do, oblivious to the many people all across the world to whom it's just a piece of fiction. We will never ever know. We have these wild imaginations like the avatar, hunger games, twilight saga, fast and furious, and others. I am not ashamed to say that some of the above-mentioned movies are indeed my favorite. But that's the thing about fiction.A cow lives on a tree. Every story has two sides, some have more, and most would never be heard. I wonder if it's better that way. Not knowing the dirty, cruel, true side. It makes others feel better, but it makes us, me feel worse every time. Not that I tell my story to anyone, never have, but sometimes I just can't stop telling it to myself and what follows after, better not be revealed. Comparing what has happ
I'd nevergivenmuchthought as to how I'd die. But dying in the place of someone I love seems like a good way to go. I had just started watching the movie when the doorbell rang. I glanced at the old analogue clock hanging on the wall. 10:30 pm It was not that late, but undoubtedly very late for someone to come to an isolated house amongst the woods with no other houses around. Lisa was not supposed to be home because she was spending the night with Max, and there is no one else who is supposed to be standing outside my door at this time of the night. So I did what everyone should do. I peeped through the peephole. It was quite difficult to see who was on the other side because of the darkness, but I could see a silhouette. Thesilhouetteof aman. There was something just not right about the situation as a heavy feeling settled in my stomach, or maybe it was just the cold and dark and fog that cr
When I used to live with my family, I always used to find myself very lonely. I did not have any friends who I could trust enough to tell everything. I did try once, and it ended up very badly. After moving out of my parent's house, I thought things will be better, and I will be able to open up, but boy was I wrong. I guess I would have stayed alone for the rest of my life if I haven't met Liza at the club where I worked that day.
Have you ever been frozen or paralyzed with shock? Have you ever in your wildest dream imagined that your teacher would come to your home? If no, then you are lucky. If yes, then you'll understand what happened to me. "You guys know each other?" He had a confused look on his face, like he didn't know what to say. It helped me to break out of my trance. "Yes, miss Dawson is my student. We met today at school." He was staring right at me like he didn't expect this himself, but there was no surprise in his voice. His stare was very eerily creepy, and I couldn't shake off the weird feeling. "Awesome dude! You never told me that teaching has so many perks! After all, you get to meet such pretty ladies." Ivan winked at me, which earned him a glare from my teacher and blush from me. The silence that followed made the situation more awkward as I went mute and Mr. Dimitri was speaking in monosyllabic words when suddenly one of the windows in the living
There are very rare moments in my life when I have truly felt lucky. I remember the day when I got an envelope with my name on it. It was the first time I received a letter, and that happened to be my scholarship invitation. I was so happy that day. I felt very lucky when I met Liza who helped me to get out of that shag where I used to live after I left home. I guess it's the third time I truly felt lucky when my phone started ringing. I excused myself from the dinner table, picked up my phone, and went to my room. Ivan was not bothered by the interruption, but my teacher on the other side of the table narrowed his eyes. "Rose! Guess what? Max's parents are not returning home for the weekend! We've got the whole house to ourselves! So Max asked me to stay back for the weekend...You know I can't say no to him, and it's my golden opportunity to get closer to him. We've also decided to throw a party, but we are not sure yet. So I was thinking-" Liza just kept on
I have this odd habit of stretching and yawning when I wake up in the morning, and the worst part of it all is that it's contagious. Anyone around in two feet distance can easily get infected, and the symptoms mostly consists of well, yawning and stretching. That's exactly what happened to Ivan when he came to the kitchen. "Rose, I am in love with your bed, I slept like a baby. It's so comfortable. What do I need to do to make it mine?" Ivan rubbed his eyes like a baby and stifled another yawn. "I don't think it's the bed. It has something to do with the tree in the backyard. I don't remember the name, but the previous owner said that its flowers release a certain kind of scent with a strong, potent drug that can knock out anyone if highly consumed or smelled. So I am assuming it was the scent of the flowers..." It was kinda funny how Ivan's eyes turned wide with shock and his mouth was left hanging open. "Where is Mr. Dimitri? Is he still sleeping?" Th