Tear stained bed

I shit ice cream and rainbows. A zombie  is roaming in my hallway. Survival is key.

Everyone loves me where I am. Each and every day I have to put up this face yet there are cracks within. People believe my faeces consists of ice cream and rainbows, and that I have a fantastic home with fun loving family members. 

They don’t see the cracks. The times where I hide in the library all alone or working out beyond what is requested by our gym teacher. I need to vent. 

But I’m surrounded by quintessential souls, feeding from my so called positive life and outstanding reputation. Yes I am the “it” girl. I’m part of the “it” crowd. I’m that popular girl you know you want to be and the typical prom queen everyone knows will win.

I’m that chic they just don’t know each and every day I have to shed my oh so perfect skin, I to remove my makeup and realise I am not that chic for I live within a home that has become a suicide spree. 

I want to leave but I can’t. How will I answer the questions people will have. I don’t need their sympathy. 

My blood sister slit her jugular vein a month ago in the room next to mine. My niece took a shot of rat poison and OD’d on her sleeping meds they couldn’t pump her in time. My mom has turned into a zombie because every female coming into this home leaves a couple of hours later or if they stay they commit suicide. 

I’m almost there but I have to stay strong for my mom. My body, his canvas to do as he pleases. His undesirable hands touching and tracing every curve of my body. While tears stains the sheets. If I do not submit he will surely beat me up too. 

My sister got beaten so bad that she couldn’t move. Broken bones, and crutches was awarded to her for standing up and speaking out against him. 

No it’s not fair but this is the life. 

I have to fight somehow but for now I’ll drown with my tear streaked face, rainbows and all. Hope and joy and all. Suicidal tendencies and murderous thoughts. 

We’ll see which inclination will dominate.

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