My First Prom...Pt.3

by Andrea   May 3, 2005


At my doorstep he leaves me.
Still mad because he didn’t get what he wanted.
Am I that irresistible? Sarcasm…

As soon as I stepped inside home,
I regretted him leaving me at once.

All of the lights were turned off,
Making the rooms look dark,
Empty, and quite creepy with a cold chill.

I went upstairs to my room to change.
Getting out of this dress and stupid tiara
Should bring me back to face reality.

I am no beautiful Cinderella.

I went to close my door but felt a
Bottomless feeling at the pit of my stomach.

Fear…

I hurried to shut my door,
But still the feeling hasn’t left.
Maybe I’m paranoid.

I took off my shoes first and began to
Pick up where he left taking off my dress.

I just want to close my eyes.
Nothing to remember.
Never opening them again.
I’m sure these eyes will not
Be missed.

Oh God.

…someone is coming up the stairs…

I hear my heart beat rapidly.
Thumping so loud, I cannot focus
But on the empty fear inside…
Growing.

Not again. Please God not tonight.

…knock…pound…slam…

Door opens freely
And the doorknob
Dents my wall with
A powerful force.

I am stricken with a stunned fear.
My eyes cannot even blink
But stay large and frightened.

My plea to God has been
Restlessly ignored and
Maybe even taunted.

Ahh, I hear his faint laughter.

Temporarily my room is lightened
Because of the window after that growl
From the sky, which repeatedly is amused.

With less than a second to act or move,
I lay on the floor trembling.
I don’t know if it is over or just beginning.

Only the Beginning…

My father smiles in my pitiful position
Knowing I try not to relent,
Although my mind surrenders to this pain.

I feel my face being bruised
After each blow to end my cry.

Weakness is revealed upon my true self.

I just want this torment to end.
But I face more and more.

This night will never end,
In my mind this memory
(like all the others)
Will come back for me
In my terrible nightmares,
But not just in my sleep.

Gathering left over strength,
From the brief second he pauses,
I pull myself up, crawling to my
Bathroom.

If I could just get there…I can shut the door.
Even if its only for a moment that I feel safe.

Feeling excruciating pain,
I grind my teeth.

I’m making my way…

Just a little further…

I can do this…I can…

…thunder roars—I am being ridiculed…

I suddenly am stopped.

He is holding me back.
Oh God, he has my feet.
He is pulling back to him.

No! No! No! I am almost there!

Mere centimeters from my bathroom
Become inches and I am distanced.

My hope is shattered and lost.

He forces me on my back.
I see him grinning in my pain.

Numb.

No hope.

Just numb.

My dress is still on
But the back is already
Undone.

He looks into my eyes
With the same grin
But then slowly it fades.

“You didn’t deserve to go. Don’t get
Any ideas, sweetheart, I’m not stupid.
You just wanted to f**k him as I’m sure
That was his same intention. Oh, yes,
I caught on. I am not stupid like you think
I am. Your mother told me, you wh0re.”

What the hell…why is he looking at me like that?
Please…I don’t want this to be leading to where I
Think this is going…No, it just can’t be.

“Did you?”

I didn’t answer.

“Answer me!”

I let out a squeal and trembling no.

“Liar.”

…blow…

Face is Numb.

“Tell me the truth.”

…another…

I taste blood.

“I don’t like liars, you b**ch.”

…another…

I suck the bitter blood and hold it for revenge.

“Damn you. You’re going to hell
For your f**king lies. And—”

I spit my blood in his pathetic face.
Hah, how do you like the taste?

…I received a harder blow…

He got up off on top of me
And behind him was a bat.
Until then I never noticed
It was there when I walked in.

I screamed in terrifying fear
Like no other or anything that
I can describe to you at all.

I crumbled myself into a ball
Trying to protect myself.

I felt his anger in the bat
Hitting my legs causing
Fresh bruises and more pain.

I cannot fight back.

He didn’t last very long, maybe a minute.
But a minute can do severe damage.
Physically and mentally.

He is smart.
Not hurting me as bad to be sent to the hospital.
That would be suspicious.
But I unwittingly predict he will one of these days.
Hopefully I would be peacefully dead,
Even though it would be a violent ending.

My once beautiful and lovely dress…
Torn and ruined.

I lied to you in the first part.
Those words do bother me.

As my father leaves me alone,
Bruised, in pain, and scarred yet again,
I lay on my bedroom floor
Bundled up and numb
With black stained cheeks.

So here I am, unbeautiful and broken.

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by crystle

    I cant believe that poem it was so beautiful that was so well written you really touched me in a lot of ways good job i hope that i run into more of your poems i my experience of being on this site

    love crystle

  • 11 years ago

    by Malenda

    Hey did this really happen to you?????
    Thank you so very much for writing a comment i hust had to write a comment for you!Any way you seem to only write dark and sad poems how about you write love poems and maybe even fiendship poems it would really be good ones i just know it any way G2G

    ~ONE~!!!!

  • 12 years ago

    by ..eliSa*

    Im speechless. i pray to god this poem isnt based on real events..i say thi sbecause not only is it wrong and inhumane, but ive been there aswell. not to that extent, but i have been there. if this has happened to u i hope it isnt a re-occuring event. never tell yourself that you arent beautiful because im sure you are more than beautiful..anyways keep up the good work, god bless you and goodluck to all you do in life..always, Elisa*

  • 12 years ago

    by Bret Higgins

    I must say I felt like I was there, cheering your corner as you stood up to him and gave him his handywork back with vitriolic spit.

    There must be at least a small sense of satisfaction there.

  • 12 years ago

    by Bret Higgins

    I want to say I love this poem, I want to say it's eloquent, well written, full of emotion and so much more, it's almost faultless, Andrea, talent beyond your years. But that more is pain and it makes me angry, so very angry.

    The positive aspects of this poem, that are rarely seen in your other poems (well, before I had my relapse) let me see a side of you I had not seen before. I'll hold onto those for now until tomorrow morning.

    My very best to you, Andrea (I muct come up with a nickname) catch you soon.

    B

    (just the one post for all three parts as they are one poem)