Depression's Many Faces 2 Broken Pt. 2

I dreamed of a princess who had a sword and fought a dragon with all her might.  When she started to weaken I pushed forward and started to fight too!  Like a warrior, I carried a spear and wore a crown.  The dragon continued to push us back and as it did the princess weakened more and started to fall down.  I tried to help her but when I did the dragon got me with a sharp claw.  Then I woke up to the officer saying he had called my grandma, the only number I remembered.

Grandma, Father's mother, does not like Mother and often asks me how her little boy could end up with a "gang's little wh.o.r.e," I just say "I do not know."  I like Grandma.  She tells me how Mother would have been alright if she hadn't got on that train in college, I have no idea what it means but I won't ever get on a train.  She has wrinkled hands and she cannot pick up stuff so I am needed.  She calls me her prince.  I feel more at home with every pa.s.sing day but I miss Jess, what if my bravery fades?

Mother and Father came to Grandma's house; both dressed nice, sober, and very kind.  Mother gave me sweets and patted my head, a good mother.  I wanted to go home; I asked about Jess, Mother just looked at her watch, "time to go," she said but then she added, "but I am coming back to get him after I take care of a few things," she eyed grandma who just looked back with fire in her eyes too.  Father stood there dumb as usual, he started drinking young and dropped out of school, making him not half as smart as Mother.  I unwillingly watched them leave, "where is Jess?" I asked grandma but she went into the kitchen.

She called me to her shortly after she had left me and said "Jess pa.s.sed away, my prince; she had severe brain injuries and could not function anymore.  Your momma said she had taken a tumble down the stairs and she started acting strange.  She died in her sleep the night you spent in jail," tears formed in her eyes, "now all I have is you!"

I ran from the house and sat on Grandma's porch looking at my clean, s.h.i.+nny, yellow hands.  The bravery faded; I didn't have my back up plan.  Father only hit me a few times and never enough to leave more than a little mark all thanks to my sister.  Maybe she was not as strong as she looked.  Now, with Jess dead, Father doesn't have any children and Mother has none that she wants.  I am all alone; I have to stay strong for myself now.

I closed my eyes and remembered my dream, the princess had gone but I am the prince!  I stood, "I am strong enough to take care of myself!"  I imagined my white armor in the evening sun.

Today at her funeral; the only people here, the only people she knew, Mother, Father, Grandma, herself, and I.  In a stone white coffin with white padding, she wears a white dress that shows her s.h.i.+ns, red gloves to hide the fresh scars, red shoes, and a red sash around her tiny waist.  Mother lays a rose crown on her small head and cries.  Father shakes like he always does when he does not have a drink, never really there, just a puppet in Mother's hands.  I have heard him actually ask Mother more than once, "Who's the kid? Why am I here?"  I try to ignore it; Grandma wants to get custody of me so that Father and Mother will not abuse me anymore, I do not know what I want. Apparently, everything that had happened to us was not the way things should be. I feel a little upset with Mother and Father, all of us looking at Jess in the red and white, like her hands the day she died.  I read an article about smoking and the effects on the brain, most people doing the drug are calmed down. Grandma believes that Mother didn't need the drug to do what she did.  If things had gone the way they should Jess would be alive with me and I would not be in the middle of a fight between Mother and Grandma. Jess does look happy now though.  Jess became a princess who does not have to hurt anymore.  Clean, salty tears run down my face and hit my hands.  I know she is always in my heart and will never leave me alone but now I am my own protector.  I can do it!  I am that prince from my dream; I can slay all of my dragons!

Poem

Control

My heart hurts.
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I hate the way

You make me feel.

Like I am worthless.

Like I am nothing.

I feel your fangs,

Sucking my soul dry.

I feel your words,

Cutting me like a knife.

I feel Death,

Like a person,

Sitting at the dinner table.

Watching me,

Waiting for me,

Wanting me.

I feel the controlling beast.

I feel your hand,

Around my throat,

I know I will die.

I know how the world ends.

I know how I end.

I feel it.

I feel Death.

My heart hurts.