All I want for Christmas is finally being free of all my chains, all my burdens. No one understands the things I went through to make sure the three of them were safe, the things I gave up to make sure he stayed safe. I was weak and couldn’t fight, all I have is words. While I protected they fought, with words of hate and ridicule. I have scars that run deeper than what people think; I have a vast memory of all the pain. I wasn’t a child growing up; I was an adult trapped in a child’s body. It wasn’t safe to be a child; no one understood the pain of having to be the adult and not being able to experience being a child when I was supposed to. Now I am taunted and lectured on being told to grow up, whereas I grew up a long time ago. They cannot see the pain because I hide it well, well enough where a fake happy façade is real enough to believe but not real enough to feel. I continue to tell them I already grew up, but they do not believe, they did not have to face the horrors I had to face. They lived a happy life whereas I lived a life of pain and misery. I had to protect them from the monster who invaded our home, our sanctuary. I have a gift that I keep to myself. If I speak about it, bad things happen or I lose the gift. I haven’t been able to speak the language for a while now; I don’t think I will ever get the knowledge I once knew. Bragging and showing off a gift makes you lose it; all I know is I inherited the gift, and I intend to use the gift. I grew up too fast because of the gift; I had to be the adult, to protect. The monster invaded our home and took advantage of our kindness; we feared for our lives more and more as we got older. We ran; he chased, and we were stuck in a never-ending nightmare.
While my brother had only me, I had my friends and their families. They saw something in me; they knew I was battling something and was losing more faith as it got stronger. More families adopted me into their home, cultivating the good they still saw, while at home I was facing never ending pain. To be told to eat yet could not eat my fill, to be told to do things yet get yelled at for doing them. The real me is disgusted with how dependent I became, just to protect him from the worst of the pain. I gave up everything and got more pain in return. Nights turned sleepless or nightmare filled; I was no longer even safe in my dreams. As the monster got stronger, the nightmares became worse. When my grandma died, everything got worse, the anger was unstoppable, and the fear was undeniable. A heavy board was made and broken, more force was applied. I could not stand to hear the sound of it, but I had to watch in fear as the anger rose. After that, it was physical fights; my tough brother was scared, and there was nothing I could do but stand there and watch as he fought the monster. The anger raised so much, it finally snapped in front of my mom, and she was hit right in front of us. I was no stranger to it, but my mom was. I was given a choice, when my mom finally left, to either go with her or move out, but either way I was not going to be staying. I ended up moving out, leaving my brother helpless. It got worse after I left; he was left to work to death yet starved for every meal. Of the four, I am said to have had the easier, but this is not true; they got the physical. I got the entire emotional trauma. To be a child and yet to know you will never be the one to experience true happiness is a hard concept. You learn to make do with the things you’re given and make sure the other three are taken care of before ever thinking for yourself. I am not understood; because I learned this concept young, I can never fully be happy because I always wait for the other shoe to fall off. I am to experience happiness through others, not truly all my own.
All I want for Christmas is to be free.
RayLynn Nations holds two degrees in Criminal Justice. She enjoys reading, Karaoke and writing Inuyasha fan-fiction in her spare time. Aside from her family and friends, RayLynn’s white DSH female cat, Luna, is very special to her.
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