Throughout the plight of destiny, the mind wanders deep unknown waters where a plethora of truths exists. For I build up my consciousness with bleeding roses whose thorns have taken command of the vessel which compels me to go into rhapsody.
The nature of cognizance runs out of sealant congesting me in the night. I can’t escape all out war going on in my lungs as the fires build and torment me. There is a scratchiness causing the burn. I let out a roar in the middle of the night. My mother entered my room with my father yelling, “What’s the matter with you? You woke up the entire household with your loud coughing.”
“I can’t help it. My throat is irritated and my lungs burn. It’s because of the cold weather outside. It’s also cold in my bedroom. Why can’t you turn the heat up so I don’t get sick in the first place?” I grabbed a Kleenex from my table and spat in it.
My father grabbed me by the hair and pulled me out of bed. I crashed to the floor. Struggling to get up, I fell back down, landing on my right ankle. A surge of needles charged through my leg as I let out a cry.
“What do you think you’re doing? Get up now.” My father backhanded my face, and grabbed my arms, shoving me against my dresser.
My knickknacks descended to the floor. There was nothing left of them but broken pieces of porcelain.
My father lifted me up and deliberately dropped me to the floor, causing me to land on the chards of porcelain.
My flesh covered in wounds, I reached up, leaned against the mattress.
I stood on the broken chards, feeling the burn of my feet. I peered into the fire coming from my fathers eyes while he revealed his teeth. “You’re crazy. What kind of father are you? You’re nothing but a monster.”
I caught my mother’s gaze. She stood there saying nothing while observing the scene.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016