SawyerSauce
October 22nd, 2013, 07:34 AM
Should I have Backed Down?
As the adrenaline rushes through my veins, my anger heightens.
I think, I think, no, there is no thinking.
I just do.
My screams get lounder, and so does his.
Our words violently tango in the burning air between us.
Our faces are red from the excitement.
Then my fingers flick and he is at me.
His hot palms are pushing at my chest.
I fall, but the brown cushions reach out to catch me.
A second goes by,
Or maybe a minute.
And my mother is between us.
She is between us. She is protecting me.
The fight that started with her and I, yet she is protecting me.
I am still angry.
The spit flies from my mouth.
My mother is telling me no.
"Stop," she is saying. I know what she means.
All too fast I fasten my jaw.
I find my way back to the place where I belong.
Children, especially female, do not have rights.
I have no right to speak, to think, to even exist.
It is his right that he lets me borrow.
I know because he tells me.
The silence I force myself into does not calm him.
I have already stepped too far.
He is still wrestling to get me, but my mother is in the way.
She looks at him and says something.
"Calm down." I don't remember the rest.
I take this moment to flee.
Fight or flight.
I had chosen fight, despite, my mom did not let me.
She remembered what had happened before.
Flight.
I ran from his towering dominance.
Not out of fear, but out of force.
Is it just me that believes to stand up?
I did no wrong. I am sure.
But why am I being punished?
The anger is gone, but my heart is still racing.
He is still yelling.
Now they are fighting.
Another marital quarrel is not what they need.
This is my fault.
I knew better than to open my mouth. I lack self control.
I should have obeyed. I should have bowed down.
It wasn't something to brawl about.
Although, it seems, I always end up losing.
And this is my life.
The familiarity is sad, but it is reality.
We are a broken family.
© Sara Lynn. All rights reserved
As the adrenaline rushes through my veins, my anger heightens.
I think, I think, no, there is no thinking.
I just do.
My screams get lounder, and so does his.
Our words violently tango in the burning air between us.
Our faces are red from the excitement.
Then my fingers flick and he is at me.
His hot palms are pushing at my chest.
I fall, but the brown cushions reach out to catch me.
A second goes by,
Or maybe a minute.
And my mother is between us.
She is between us. She is protecting me.
The fight that started with her and I, yet she is protecting me.
I am still angry.
The spit flies from my mouth.
My mother is telling me no.
"Stop," she is saying. I know what she means.
All too fast I fasten my jaw.
I find my way back to the place where I belong.
Children, especially female, do not have rights.
I have no right to speak, to think, to even exist.
It is his right that he lets me borrow.
I know because he tells me.
The silence I force myself into does not calm him.
I have already stepped too far.
He is still wrestling to get me, but my mother is in the way.
She looks at him and says something.
"Calm down." I don't remember the rest.
I take this moment to flee.
Fight or flight.
I had chosen fight, despite, my mom did not let me.
She remembered what had happened before.
Flight.
I ran from his towering dominance.
Not out of fear, but out of force.
Is it just me that believes to stand up?
I did no wrong. I am sure.
But why am I being punished?
The anger is gone, but my heart is still racing.
He is still yelling.
Now they are fighting.
Another marital quarrel is not what they need.
This is my fault.
I knew better than to open my mouth. I lack self control.
I should have obeyed. I should have bowed down.
It wasn't something to brawl about.
Although, it seems, I always end up losing.
And this is my life.
The familiarity is sad, but it is reality.
We are a broken family.
© Sara Lynn. All rights reserved