Young Writers Society

Daily Schedule

6:30: Wake up
6:30-6:35: Make your bed, tuck in the corners neatly, fold them out of sight
6:35-6:40: Make breakfast, something that can either be eaten in seconds or won't spoil sitting out
6:40: Get out of the kitchen when you hear him get up.
6:41: Tuck in your corners, don't make a sound
6:41-?: Use every tool at your disposal to see if he's happy today
?: If he is, proceed as usual
?: If he's not, hide as long as you can.
7:00: Make him breakfast and pray that he still likes what he liked yesterday
7:00: If his hands move, brace. If they come at you, accept it is too late
7:30: If he likes breakfast, make his place on the couch
7:30: If he's not angry, give him the chair furthest from the window, push the table up to his recliner, and place three beers in arm's reach
?: If he is angry, there's nothing you can do but grovel as the bruises rain down
8:00: Sweep the floor, but never vacuum because it gives him a headache
8:00 If he tells you to vacuum, accept that you're stupid and bite your tongue until it bleeds and do it.
?: And if he tells you that you're being too loud and to put the vacuum away, cry in futility because your day is over
12:00 Don't make his lunch unless he asks for it, or if you want to take the daggers he's staring into you out of your back
7:00-16:30: If he ever has less than three beers, unless he says he's done for the today, then always make sure there are two.
7:00-16:30: Only eat when he goes to the bathroom, sit and stare at him like a robot waiting for programing.
7:00-16:30: If he ever tells you that you can leave, never believe him
Forever: Never, ever believe him
4:30: When he has gone to bed, don't cry
6:30: When your mom gets home, don't cry
7:00: When he wakes up to join you for dinner, act like nothing has happened. Hide any bruises, cuts, or growing scars.
9:00 When you have gone to bed, and the house is silent, sob
Every night: Sob until your lungs give out and your brain convinces you this is home

Future Goals

I hear the way he treats you.
It's hard not to, really,
Yelling and screams echo through this house,
sink into the foundation,
I don't know if I would recognize home without this unrest.

You never defend yourself,
and I'm the only one who says anything.
I wish I had the courage to protect you more,
but I'm trying to appease him, too.

Mom, I'm scared.
I'm scared of the holes in your bedroom wall,
and of the way you fill them in with plaster and smiles.

Lean on me, please, admit this is happening,
and maybe we'll make it out together.

I'll swallow down my lead to help hold your arsenic.

Learning New Things (even when they hurt)

I have (handprints on) my forearms,
(They sting) and I can(not) handle it,
I spend hours (tracing their shape,
aching and wincing and crying)
in my room, alone.
By choice.
(Out of cowardice)
He is (trying to be) a good father,
and I am (nothing but) a bad (cruel monster) child,
and what he does are just punishments,
(that I deserve).
And sometimes (more often than not),
(possibly every time),
I wonder if he hasn't gone far enough.
It doesn't hurt (that much,
not as much as it should).
You call me the problem,
and no one fights you,
(and neither do I)
(Why would I when you're right?)