Scars In A Childs' Eyes.
In a world wherein some people are scared to leave everything behind, afraid of death, afraid of being irrelevant, afraid of not leaving any legacy for their love ones to remember.
People. Beings. Human.
Death makes us human. Being human is one of great and noble things in this universe; being able to empathize, being able to feel anything and death is when you can’t feel anything and something all at once.
A boundary in between conscious and unconscious.
What is life when you can’t feel?
I, will tell you about that, and I’m pretty sure the people around me would laugh at my face for this or probably would tell me I lack faith and prayers, one of the reasons why I write.
It all began back in childhood. Well, everything began in childhood.
I have I guess- a perfect flawed family. A family is not a family without hardships, fall outs, and misunderstandings. We overcome it but it shaped us to who we are today. Every fall out, every bad and good thing, I can remember it clearly. I hold unto it so much I always forget everything that is happening in the present unless it becomes the past.
That might be too much to process but that’s how I put it.
I love throwing back things, I hold things where everything is happy, joyful- or some people call it- sunshine and rainbows.
I witness how my father abused my mom and act dumb about it in and I want to forcedly forget it. A situation where a child shouldn’t witness. I force things I don’t want to deal and it comes back around to hurt me ten folds. I witness how they argue about financial problems, I experience how my father hurt us physically and every time a person either shout or gets violent, I get scared.
I don’t get angry, just cry and accept whatever they say because I know I couldn’t control myself when I’m angry. It might turn bad and when my mind is in an emotional rollercoaster, I do something I shouldn’t to cope up with it. I couldn’t handle it; I don’t know how.
No one taught me things. Basic things to emotional things.
I’m in constant state of fear because I force to bury it deep within me. I handle everything because people around me is leaving to either build family or chase their careers. I know it’s because it’s for our sake but I can’t help but think that they should be there whether we can handle it or not.
Still- I understand, time is never enough.
Witness how hard an illness is to a person, how people are hateful towards patients that is having a hard time, but they will always disregard what I saw because I’m younger and for them- I never witness what reality is like.
But I did. At a very young age at that.
And when my mom died, I felt what grieving is like.
Grieving. A single word but can hold you back for years.
It’s like ripping your heart out every time I remember on what should have happened as if your heart is stuck in your throat, all the memories crash back to me and get stuck in my heart as it forges into something I call—haunted memories.
If only.
If only I did things I should have. If only I was there. If only I was mature enough. But a 16 years old girl will never be mature enough to predict anything as precaution.
And considering that- I know what’s infinite.
Scars is.
Scars are infinite.
