Back in hell

The house was hell. Violence and always having too many secrets for any child to bear. No one in the house I could trust. I was utterly alone with too much on my mind. It drove me to away and my father faced every ultimatum my mother could throw at him to rescue me. Rescue. The best word is rescue.

My father died two years later. I watched as every organ failed and when he could no longer speak I turned on his favorite show and held his hand. Last summer he left me in the hands of his best friend. She took me when my own mother wouldn't. When I'm alone my thoughts get too deep and I wonder if it's just a dream. If the trauma has sent me into a delusion telling me I'm safe to shield me. Maybe I'm not with my new mother at all.

My greatest fear is waking up back in hell.