One Last Long Walk

Taking that final walk through the dense woods with my shoes long gone and a rope holding my wrists too tight behind my back with my hair disheveled and full of small twigs and leaves as tears stain my cheeks as he holds me by my upper arm preventing me from running away, I beg him to not do this, to not leave me here. I tell him I love him that I can be good, that I will try harder. The tears streaming down my face compel him to turn me around and look at me, I keep my eyes cast down, where they are supposed to be. He tells me to look at him so I carefully raise my eyes to meet his. 

He spits in my face and calls me a liar. I tell him I will do anything. He looks like he is enjoying this game and he pushes me down to the damp cool forest floor. As I struggle to get into a position that doesn’t hurt, he quickly grabs my hair and yanks me back to a standing he tilts my head back and I look into his eyes. Without saying a word I know he is going to give me one final chance. 

I don’t know if I am relieved to live as his captive or if death would have been the easier escape. The fact that I am sitting here able to write this all these years later leaves me to wonder, wonder a lot of things. 

Tonight I learned something that I was told over and over and over again. I am a mistake, from the moment of conception, to every word I say now. I am a fuck up. 

“I said go.... it’s bad enough I have been sitting here panicking and crying for hours... then I get back online and you make me feel stupid and get mad at me because of the way I word something even though you know full well I am freaking out.

Punish me, like everyone else does... that’s all I am a fuck up who needs punished... I’m a fucking retarded stupid bitch. I am bad. I should be dead and I am not. I’m stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.” –from a chat convo I was having.