Broken - Crimson Rose (best classic books of all time txt) 📗

Not that it would make me feel any better, but her.
Today she told me to hop on to the car. To the therapist, I thought. But I was mistaken. Do you know where? To the shelter. And I just stood in the doorway, unable to move. They tried to get me to move, so in the end we had to go back home. And do some cutting.


23rd of April

'Don't worry, a dad never stops loving his daughter.' that's what the therapist told me. He told me this after I told him my dad hates me. But he is right, a dad never stops loving his daughter. What about the other way around? I found out it's very possible. How can anyone expect me to love a man who slapped me, made my mom cry and is lost? For me him being lost doesn't make a difference, I didn't see him before, and I don't see him now. End of the story. But never once has he missed my birthday. And today, 23rd of April is my birthday and he is no where to be seen. I can use that as a weapon against my therapist. 'So why does he let me suffer on my birthday? Is this my present? Leaving me with a mom that has fountains instead of eyes?' my therapist looks sad for me. 'You know what Becca? I have a present for you.' he takes out a box. Is he supposed to give his patients presents? I am not sure, but we know each other for a long time. I rip off the gift wrapper to find a violin silencer. Its this small metal thing you put on the bridge of the violin so it covers up some of the noise. 'Remember once you told me you wished you could play your violin when you weren't able to sleep late at night but scared it would wake up your parents and neighbors? I searched all over the Internet for this.' this made me cry. I cried and cried and cried until I realized time was up. I was about to get up to leave when he stopped me. 'No, today it's your birthday, and I don't want you to go home having thoughts in mind that make you cry. Becca, what else happened?' that's when I told him of her, of the violin broken, still on the floor, waiting to be thrown away.

                      
25th of April

It's been a while since my last time in school. My therapist told me I should go since it will take things off my head. As I entered the class yesterday, which was a Friday, I avoided Dean. The teacher looked sorry for me. She didn't look into my eyes while giving me an envelope. I was going to open it once I was seated, but I looked around the class, and the only seat empty was next to Dean. I'm sure he arranged this on purpose incase I was to come. What a monster. Haven't I wished for this? No, not anymore. I pulled my seat so I'm somewhat far from him. I opened up the envelope. I wish I haven't. It was from the school administration telling me I've been away for too long so I have to take 9th grade over again next year. This wasn't happening to me. I closed my eyes, unable to believe my luck. Dean looked over my shoulder as I crumbled up the paper. He swung his arm to my back and whispered into my ear 'Chill, I'm here for you.'. He placed a kiss on my neck, near my ear. Wasn't this abuse? But I didn't move. I meant to, but my muscles were betraying me. So he kissed again, this time a bit lower. Wasn't the teacher seeing this? Obviously no, because the next thing I feel is his hand turning my head so he can place another kiss, this time on my lips. A few heads turned our way. But he kept on, pulling me lower into the desk so we are literally hiding behind it. His hand went in my shirt. And that moment I knew I would rather be dead. But I wasn't, and I was being abused in a class with 15 people in it, and no one was stopping it.
What happened next? After the lesson, I let him hold me by my waist. I let him take control over me. And there is no way back.


27th of April

After I gave my mom the wrinkled paper, she went to her room. I heard her making some phone calls. Then a scream 'You asshole! Come back home, your daughter needs you!'. But the rest is cries. I know he's not coming back. I know he won't be here to help me. But why? Why has he abandoned us over nothing? He has been never away for so long. It always seemed impossible that he has to work so much. No one, not even the president works so much. I don't even know what his job is, all I know is he has been cheating on my mom, and my mom knew about this. Only keeping it away so I don't get hurt, but its harder to learn it this way. Now he had an excuse to leave.
I didn't tell my mom about Dean. So I went to school again. He gave a mischievous smile and slid his hand under my skirt. But this time we were caught. Our teacher shouted across the classroom 'Becca, what's that that Mr. Manson is so interested under your skirt? Maybe you would like to share it with the whole class...' a few people laughed, but except that, everyone was serious. Silence spread the room. Then she shouted 'Out! You know the rules of our school! Hope that Mr. Davel doesn't decide on expelling you two.' Mr. Davel has a history of expelling a handful of kids. Our class once used to have 18 students. In the end I spoke up for myself whereas Dean was expelled. I will never forget does eyes, saying they hate me. But who hates who more? Me hating him for sexually abusing me or him hating me for getting him expelled? I guess we both hate each other equally, although somewhere inside me there is this funny feeling. What's it called? Pity?


29th of April

When my mom came into my room to wake me up, she asked me 'Its almost been a week since your birthday, and I still didn't give you a present. Are you ready to tell me what you want?' what I want is Lucifer, my violin, my dad, and although he abused me, Dean back. I've realized I wanted him to abuse me. It made me feel important. Important enough to be abused. I had to answer my moms question, so I replied with the first thing that came up to my mind 'Nothing.', so my mom got out of my room saying it would be a surprise. She is overly depressed, is she seeing a therapist herself? I know she's taking antidepressants since our bathroom is filled with those tiny aluminum pieces that come off once you take a pill out from its box. But more importantly, how were we gonna feed ourselves? My dad was our only source of money. Either my mom had to find a job, or we were going to starve. So I ran behind her, this time knowing what I want 'Mom, this may be a bit of a big present, but I want you to get a job. After all, we can't live like this.' she seemed shocked, but then it struck me that shes never even thought about money, it was news to her. Never in her life has she worked, so this meant one thing; to be able to feed us we both have to work. I wonder if I'll be able to find a job at this age. I can begin with babysitting, but who would leave their child to me? My reputation isn't good around the neighborhood. That's why today I had to find my old violin in the basement, so I could play it on the streets.


31t of April

Thanks to the health insurance, that my dad still pays for, I can still see my therapist. He told me we would play the 'yes no' game. Of course its not a game. What it is is he asks me a bunch of questions that I'm only allowed with either yes or no. In the beginning I had a hard time giving a certain answer in, but I am used to it by now. This is how it went;
Do you like going to school?
No.
Is there a specific reason why?
Yes.
Is there a specific person that is the cause?
Yes.
Is this person a girl?
No.
Is this person your age?
Yes.
Has he done something to you?
Yes.
Did this thing include abuse?
Yes.
Did he get what he wanted?
Yes.
Has he get away with it?
No.
Do you feel any sort of regret?
Yes.
Will you face him again tomorrow?
No.
After the game, he asked about details, but I told him I didn't feel comfortable taking about it. For the first time I felt angry at him, for not insisting for me to give details, for not asking me about my mom, my dad and my situations back at home. I wanted to tell him he was wrong about my dad. That he didn't love me anymore. I wanted to tell him I had to take 9th grade over again, but he didn't ask me anything about it. He didn't ask me to update him, instead he told me I could leave early today. This was odd, and there was something else to this, but I figured it out much later. My mom had come to see him, but they weren't gonna talk about me, but my mom had come to see him, for herself.

 
2nd of May

In two days the final exams come up, but my teacher told me I don't have to take them since I'll be retaking my grade anyways. From my observations I can't say I'm too left behind, no, I'll be as good as the others if I spend a few nights dug in textbooks, but instead I am planning on taking advantage on the situation and try to solve my personal problems. Now that I am back on playing the violin, on size three quarters, I am occupied on those two hours I had as spear time. I'm having a difficult time on trying to go back on my old violin, since my broken one was four quarters of size. So I can't go directly to the streets, I have to do practicing. How ironic, a girl who goes to a private school has to go out pleading for money with her old small violin. Isn't there more I can do? Yes, except playing on the streets, I can give out lessons. So I made up flyers with my phone number on for private lessons. I know it has been only a day, but I'm disappointed since I don't have any calls yet. After all, I put them all around, in the post office, on trees, on lampposts, I'll even ask my therapist if I could put one up in his waiting room. I doubt he'll say no. After all, his place isn't so fancy, with chafe couches, 5 year old magazines, wooden floor that needs desperate replacing, and gray walls who were once white. The place is depressing itself. If my therapist wasn't such an advanced doctor, going to the