Thoughts of a screwed up teen

Hope

Hope should be
Easily obtainable and
Unexplainable
But it's not
It's haunting
Like a ghost you just can't reach
'Cause it leaves you without speech
And leaves you wanting
And it's haunting
And daunting
That you'll never have it
So you keep trying
Dying, crying, whining
Spilling your own blood signing
Yourself spent
And you just don't get it
And you never will


Dear Carrie,
What is the point of life?  I have yet to figure this out.  My life is not one of perfection.  But neither is this world.  The world is full of strife and war.  It is full of hatred and despair.  Why then do we live?  There is no answer to this insanity.  People die everyday.  Why then can one person’s death make a difference?  If I died I would become a number.  Nothing else.  Betrayal takes the place of friendship.  Hate takes the place of love.  Despair takes the place of happiness.  What then am I?  How do I go through life this way?  How can I stay alive when I can’t live?  How can you “live” with out “living”? 
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
I was born into a life of sadness.  My daddy was in the military so he wasn’t ever there.  My mom did not love us like she should have loved us.  By us I mean my sister and I.  There were times when she was nice.  Those were rare though…very rare.  And I had to live in a roach infested trailer park.  And there would be times when she would get mad…and she would tell me to leave, but I had nowhere to go so I would just sit outside till she wasn’t mad anymore.  Then, there were the men.  Her boyfriends I think.  Or maybe just friends.  Either way they hurt me and my sister.  They liked to beat us and do things to us.  Horrible things.  Sexual things.  Those men were our nightmare.  My sister doesn’t remember any of it.  Lucky her.
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
My sister and I were all each of us had.  Maybe that’s why I hate her so much today.  Because seeing her reminds me of all the horrible things I faced with her.  People say that rough times bring people together.  It just tore me and my sister apart.  But then, she was my only friend.  We would always talk bad about our mom behind her back.  And sometimes she made it better, living with our mom.  I could always cry with her.  No matter what happened.  But like I said…I had nobody else.  We were sheltered from the rest of the world like prisoners.  We were prisoners of her world.  Our mother’s world.  And her world was not one of happiness, love, or kindness.
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
Do you know who I am?  Because I don’t.  I feel so alone in this world.  I feel like nobody knows my pain.  But I know this is not true.  I know there are people worse off than I am.  But that doesn’t stop the fact that I still feel this sadness everyday.  Nothing changes.  This world will never get better.  And most of all, the situation I am currently in is permanent.  Like I said…nothing ever changes.  Promises of change take place.  But hopes are diminished as children and adults are murdered, raped, assaulted, you name it.  It always happens.  Children are ripped form their parents everyday.  Is this how YOU want to live? Sanity questioned.  Is this how YOU want to live?  Wishes in vain.  Is this how YOU want to live?  Dreams demolished.  Is this how YOU want to live?  Tell me…how much is your life worth?
From me to you,
Allie




Dear Carrie,
The nightmare resumes as the memories flash before my eyes.  I still cringe at the thought.  This was the worse time.  The one that still haunts me in my dreams.  My sister was gone.  Where she was…I don’t know.  But most importantly, I was there.  I was there to receive all the pain.  I was there to see them walk in and hug my mom.  I was there to watch in horror as my mom left.  And I was there, left alone with the two men.  I started to cry as they hit me over and over again.  They hit me until I stopped fighting.  Until I was still.  Then they took my clothes off.  And they touched me.  As young as I was, I still knew that it was wrong.  And I started to cry again.  As my tears mixed with my blood I knew the worse was yet to come…
And it came with a vengeance.
From me to you,
Allie

Hate

Anger
Building up inside of me
Won’t stop
Can't stop
Lashing out
Killing
Bleeding
Blind
Never ending black hole
Falling
And falling
It never ends


Dear Carrie,
The next morning I was bruised and hurt.  Yet my mother realized nothing.  She did not see my bruised and cut up face.  She did not see the way my body shook.  And she did not see the way I could barely walk.  But now that I am older I realize it wasn’t that she couldn’t see these things, it was that she didn’t care.  I think she knew, but she didn’t want to face it.  I have never gotten over that night and even though I remember it clearly, it is too much to write down.  It hurts too much to even remember it, but I think you get it.  I think you get the pain I faced, and I think you get why it torments me still.  I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.  That night I learned that showing your emotions can get you hurt.  Crying excites the predator.  Showing that you are sad makes the torture worse and most of all reaction maximizes the effect.  How can I ever get over this?
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
My mom is no different.  When she got mad she’d hit us.  Even if we did nothing wrong…I remember one time she tied me and my sister up because she didn’t feel like watching us.  So we had to stay tied up to her bed, for hours.  My wrists were rubbed raw. My legs were asleep.  When she finally untied us I could not even stand.  And she hit me because of it.  I was too young to realize that this is not normal.  She locked me in a room one time for a week.  The darkness nearly drove me mad.  I couldn’t do anything.  And all she fed me was bread and water.  So the lack of sufficient food made me weak.  It makes me sad for the people who go through this everyday.  It makes me feel like I should not feel that pain when they have to feel it everyday.  But I did feel pain and I will never forget that pain.  But my mom forgets it like it never happened…
From me to you,
Allie

You Ruined Me

You ruined me
You cheat and lie
Alcohol, cigarettes
To get you by

You ruined me
With nowhere to go
Abused and broken
I took the blow

You ruined me
With all the men
They hurt me now
They hurt me then

You ruined me
With words like ice
Hard and cold
I paid the price

You ruined me
I'll never forget
All those tears
I can't, not yet

Dear Carrie,
My mom made us steal for her.  She used to make us bring our book bags into stores and she would make us put stuff in them.  I guess it was so if we were caught she wouldn’t get into trouble, we would.  And then she threw me down the stairs one time just because I lost her keys.  And she punched us and hurt us.  It was horrible.  All the times she hit us.  All the times she abused us.  She was not a nice person.  Don’t get me wrong, she had her moments.  But I was scared of her.  I was so scared of her.  But I knew when it was coming.  I knew when she would hurt us.  So I had time to prepare.  Not much, but it’s still better than nothing.  When she was nice I was her Allie princess.  She would tell extravagant stories of me and my kingdom.  But that was rare.  I cherished those moments.  And along with the bad…I will never forget them.
From me to you,
Allie

Through This Door

Through this door
I walk and see
A kingdom so
Grand and free
grandly built
Beautiful

Through this door
I step and stare
my mind is gone
It's not all there
I care for once
No price to pay
No toll or fare

I can be
freely me

Dear Carrie,
Food was limited.  Our mom didn’t’ have a lot of money.  So I would eat cat food out of my neighbor’s cat’s bowl.  Don’t judge me.  I did what I had to do.  My mom didn’t care.  She never did.  Just imagine being so hungry that you would eat cat food.  At least I did get some food.  The only times I got to go outside was when my mom kicked me out.  I was always too scared to actually leave, but I should have.  Nobody deserves to live like I did.  I always felt like my mom loved my sister more than me.  On my sister’s birthday we got cake, on my birthday we got locked in my room to do work.  I always tried to get my mom to love me, but she never did.  She never changed.
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
The abuse was worse when my mom got drunk.  This happened a lot.  One time she actually threw a chair at me.  It cut my face and the cut got infected.  Then another time she threw the television at us.  It cut my leg really bad.  She tried to apologize and I said I forgave her, but I never really did.  I don’t think she really cared.  And she never stopped drinking.  And she never stopped smoking either.  All my clothes smelled like smoke and she rarely washed our clothes.  We had to wear dirty clothes.  The house smelled so bad, it was hard to breath.  And people made fun of us.  I hated it.  Everyone seemed to be cleaner and have a better life.  We were cast out and left alone.  With no friends and no life, we were forced home to face the abuse of everyday life.  Sadness consumed me everyday.  Things never got better and nothing ever changed. 
From me to you,
Allie

A Mother’s Abuse

The hits, the blood,
The pain, the tears
The blows, the men,
The screams and fears
The grabbing and slapping
Hate, anger, upset
The list goes on with
No little regret
The lies, the words,
The fear of the prey
Loneliness, sadness
Despair and dismay
The shaking, the taking
Of any possible hope
Abusing and using
How can I cope?
The threats that caused
My soul to wither and die
Depression, overwhelming
Questions of why
The yelling, the throwing
The crashing of glass
The memories of my
Most horrible past

Dear Carrie,
Still to this day I remember things that went on during that time.  And I will never forget them.  I still don’t understand why I had to go through that.  Why me?  Why did it have to hurt so badly?  Why does it still affect me now?  Why?  WHY?  Tell me!  Why do I have nightmares about these men?  Why does it scare me to go to sleep?  Why can’t I get over this?  Why?  WHY?  Please tell me.  Why do I cry for no reason?  Why am I looked at as weird?  Why does nobody seem to care?  Why Carrie?  Why?  WHY?  Why do I just wish it would all end?  Why are you making me write this?  Why can’t it all go away?  Why can’t I die and forget this?  Why do I have to get so emotional?  Why do my tears fall more than rain.  Why can’t it end?  Why?  Why?  Why won’t you leave me alone?  Why?  WHY?  Why…
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
The men came regularly.  Each time they did the same thing.  They would hit me first because I would start to cry.  And then they would pin me down and they would take my clothes off.  I will never forget the pain.  The horrible pain.  They would grab me and hit me over and over again.  I was so small.  And they just kept going until I was done screaming.  Until my body stopped trying to fight them.  They stopped when I was passed out and unresponsive.  I would wake up with blood caked on my face.  It’s like I had permanent bruises that never went away.  I made excuses to those who asked.  I would say that I fell off my bike, or that I fell off my bed.  But people knew.  They knew something weird was going on.  But nobody could help me.  Until one day…my dad came and got me.
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
They fought for hours when my dad got came home.  He was yelling so loud.  But he was yelling for us.  That was such an awesome feeling.  Somebody was fighting for me.  For me.  Nobody had ever done that before.  He actually cared enough to do something about it. He loved me like I always wanted to be loved.  And he still does today.  I knew he would take us away.  Away from the violence.  Away from the abuse.  Away from out mother’s world.  It was raining hard that day; I was drenched when I finally got into my dad’s car and saw that ugly trailer for the last time.  This, I think, was the best day of my life.  It was when I experienced true happiness.  It was when I entered a new world.  My daddy’s world.  A world I will always miss.  Too bad it couldn’t be real.  To bad the happiness couldn’t last.
From me to you,
Allie

Dear Carrie,
Despite all the bad things, I love my mom.  She was good to me some of the time.  With her stories and cute nicknames…I missed her sometimes.  I guess you never get rid of the love you have somebody.  Even if she could never love me like I love her…I will never stop loving her.  That’s just how love is.  Love is a weird emotion.  It can be the most uplifting and at the same time the most depressing.  I will always love my mother.  No matter what she has done to me.  No matter what happens.  No matter what she tells me or what she will do.  I will always love her.  But at the same time I was so glad that I was leaving her.  Never to feel that pain again.  And to be with my dad.  And as we left that trailer for the last time I just couldn’t help but think… goodbye mother.  I love you.
From me to you,
Allie