My Papa (Grandfather) has gone to sleep in his room.
My Daddy has the flu, he is laying down in bed.
My mother is working on coupons on the computer across the room.
My second youngest brother is on the couch near me reading a book he got for christmas.
My littlest brother is making mashed potatoes for dinner.
My dog is chewing on a rawhide.
My cat is with my dad.
And I am screaming. Silently shrieking.
My loving family goes on like this. How they cannot see the blade so blatently slashing at my gut I cannot imagine. That they don’t see my insides being ripped out and thrown across the room, my chest burned by fire. But I am glad they cannot. It is not that they are not paying attention. I must keep it from them. They have their own worries. But I want to tell someone. Someone understand. Even though I’m not worth it. You have your own pain, a more justifiable suffering I’m sure. I’m just whiny.