Alone

I want this. I wanted it since fifth grade, when stupid Suzy McCallister told me to go kill myself. Me being a 10 year old, assumed she meant it literally. So that night at dinner, I proudly announced(with a mouthful of leftover meatloaf) that I would kill myself. My Nana had fainted as soon as the words escaped my mouth. “Look what you’ve done, you careless child!” My father screamed, rushing over to my grandmother to make sure she was alright. He was never a nice man, an alcoholic, who never deserved my mother. But who was I to speak? Apparently I was just a selfish child after all. It hurt,those words he spoke. But that would be the last time he ever spoke badly of me again. I stomped up the creaky wooden stairs to my bedroom. The animals on the wallpa seemed to taunt me. ~kill yourself~ They chanted. I was going crazy. That’s when I decided. Self-isolation. Until I was finally ready to come out. I didn’t want to hurt my Nana anymore, or hear my fathers cruel insults. I decided I wouldn’t leave my room until at least a couple of weeks have passed. So I stayed. I was hungry most of the time, but my angelic mother noticed I never came out and made excuses for me to my father. Things like,“She has soccer practice,” or “She’s staying with a friend”. My mother was just as scared of my father as I was. Says he never used to be like this. I know it, and she knows it, that I’m the reason he drinks. I’m the reason he yells. And screams. And punches the walls. But neither of us said it. I’ve been in my room for 3 years now. I think my father knows by now. He doesn’t care, but as long as he’s treating my mother and my grandmother fine, then I’m ok with it. My mother slips food into my room at least twice a day. My father just ignores me. Never goes near my room. That’s my self isolation. But in a week, I’m outta here. I’m going to live with my Aunt Christina. The nicer of the two kids my Nana (my fathers mother)had.