It was all ME

I was upstairs crying.
Real bad. I was gasping for air.
My sister came up to check on me.
She wanted to know what happened.
I couldn't talk coherently.
I was gasping for air.

But I could never forget what I wanted to say.
"I really couldn't hear her. I was washing the dishes. It was raining."
My mother was downstairs cursing me.

# # # # #

I opened the gate and ran into the house.
I slipped and fell.
My knee was scratched.
My mother came to looked at me.
No, not to check how I was hurt.
She cursed me.
The scratch didn't hurt.
But later my eyes were wet.
The hand-me-down dress was more important.
# # # # #
I was mugged.
My sis told my dad.
His first reaction?
"See! I told you not to carry a handbag!"
I could never forget that awful smug on his face.
All the awful stories about ladies getting hurt by those chicken-ass muggers didn't even prompt him to ask me if I was hurt.
# # # # #

I was crying at the balcony.
I don't remember why. But I was sad. Really sad.
My shoulders were shaking.
My father saw me.
"So young already so much problems!"
Bam! He slammed the door.

All these are memories. Scars in my heart.
Ah.... Suddenly I have so much to write about.
About all the shitty people in my life.