Six Years Old

{[WARNING!!!] THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DISTURBING SCENES AND MANY MORE! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED. }

I was six years old when I realised that my family was not the same anymore. It's not beautiful, cheerful, no laughter, no giggles, just screamed, yelled, and hatred. I was only six, when my precious, caring and loving, doting father turned into a mad man, yelling, hitting, hurting me and my mother, every day. That time, I wasn't sure why he was like that. I was only six years old when my mother, a loving, caring, beautiful, elegant, delicate woman, leave me alone with my father, let me be abused by myself and saved herself from the house I called hell. I was six years old, I knew nothing until that day, I knew, that these whole beautiful and nice people can change ugly with a snap of a finger.

My father who always look so smart and neat turned ugly, untidy, and such a mess, he looked like a homeless person. Maybe I should say, soulless people.

Today is like another day. He kept yelling at me and abused me, but I was six, what can a little girl could do. As the punch hit my face, I can't see anything as my vision turned black. I heard the crash sounds along with his grief.

The sounds getting faded but my head won't stop ringing. It's hurt. So bad. At the age of six, for the first time in my life, I wish I died, back then, I wished...Just let me die.

As everything turned white, I looked around as my bangs falls, covering my eyes. I swipe it up, there is someplace in this pure white place, that fills with colours and laughter. I want to go there...

I stood up and walked there as the sweet fragrance enchanted my nose. Cotton candy? I smile. Maybe all the agony just now is just a dream.

I tried to reach the colours, it's so beautiful. Pink, red, yellow, blue, all colours were there. But soon turning grey and monochrome.

I looked down, even the grass that looked green just now looked dead.

I step back and heard a mocking sound. I turned around and I see myself. Smiling with a weird looking face. Black and blue, a little red too. Some ruby liquid fell from the nose as the white shirt turned grey too.

You need to wake up, she said. Or maybe I should say that I said.

I stared at her chest, where the dirty shirt suddenly turned red slowly, the blood gushing out from her body.

Ah, I see. That's the reality and the colours just now is just a dream.

You need to wake up, she said again.

As I opened my eyes, the room was dark. I assumed it was nighttime. I bring myself to sit up and look around. As my eyes finally adjust to the darkness, I could see how messy the room is. I touched my head as my head throbbed.

I've been laying here since I lost my consciousness. I stared at my hands. Then looked around again. Where is he?

"Daddy?" I called him as I gather the strength to stand up again. Maybe he is in the kitchen? I walked to the kitchen. The house is not too big but not small either.

"Daddy?"

Huh?

I could feel my heart beating fast, like how fast it was when I found out that my mom is gone.

I walked slowly to the bedroom, hoping he is gone but also hoping he was there, crying himself to sleep.

"Daddy?" I knocked on the door. But silence answers me instead. It's a little strange today, usually, he would open the door right away and hug me, asking for forgiveness. I stand on my toes to open the door as I have smaller figures despite my age.

As I pushed the door, I just stood there as I saw his body figures. Hanging.

"Daddy?" I called him. But he never answers. I sat on the chair next to his body while holding his leg for the la time, nudging his pants. Until the sun finally peaks into the sky. I looked up.

"You dead?" I asked him the last time. You shouldn't. "Daddy..."

I felt my eyes start to produce some tears. And my heart throbbing in pain. "You...shouldn't daddy." I looked down to my feet.

"If you're gone, then who else do I have. You're the only one I have, daddy." but he never answers. So, I sit there, until my tears dry. I glanced at the window. The sun was about to hide again.

I stood up from the chair and tidy up my daddy's bed. I need to make sure he laid is down soon. He can't be hanging up there forever. I saw an envelope on the bed. With some scribbles. "I can't read, daddy..." I shove it in my dress's pocket and walked out to my neighbour's house.

I was six years old, my daddy committed suicide, my mom abandoned me, and I grew up in the orphanage until 15.

And the world hates me.