Jul. 23rd, 2006

shalimar: (Profile Stoic)
Parents are supposed to love their children. They are supposed to look into their eyes and see themselves reflected in the innocent expressions. They are supposed to accept them unconditionally, and be there for them no matter what. That's what parents are supposed to do, but mine never did.

Ten years old and I wasn't like the other kids in my class. I was stronger, and faster and I was considered 'out of control'. I was different, but it was who I was... or at least who I was becoming. My parents could have taken me into their arms and helped me. They could have tried to love me and make things better, or easier for me. They could have accepted me, but instead they looked to the thought that I wasn't normal, that there was something wrong with me.

I was ten years old and I was put in a psychiatric institution. They pushed enough sedatives into me to stop at least ten kids, but it couldn't keep me down. So when the drugs didn't work, they turned to beating me. Three to four grown men would come into my room and beat me until I was unconscious... at ten years old. My father, the one that should have loved me.. the one that should have told them to stop hurting me just told them to do whatever it took. To keep it up, that if beating me was the only way? Then that was the only way. I wasn't his daughter, because I wasn't normal. I was some thing to be dealt with. He wanted them to fix me... to make me normal, and for some reason he thought that they could beat me into normalcy.

I had no one, I had nothing. I'd cry myself to sleep some nights hoping that it was all a dream. That being locked up, having my own father look at me that way... that it wasn't real. I tried to imagine that the blows to my sides were just him trying to shake me awake from the horrors I was trapped in. I never woke up though. Each morning my eyes would flutter open and I'd still be in that place. Being looked at as a thing, instead of a daughter. I knew he'd never look at me the same way, I knew I wasn't going to just become normal for him. I knew that I was changing into what I was supposed to become. My powers were growing and one night? When the orderlys came for me? I saw my chance. I showed them what it was like to be scared... really scared that the end was coming.

That ten year old girl that was too fast, too strong and too wild? She showed them the definition of out of control. I ran from that place, and I never wanted to look back. I wanted to be able to look at myself and know that I was normal, just the way I was. The way he looked at me, how he looked right throught me... still creeps into my sleep at night. The difference is that when I wake up now, it is just a dream. I know that I'm safe and sound and that the eyes staring me back in the mirror are my own, and I'm not ashamed of what I am. I have no reason to be.
shalimar: (Oh Is That So?)
With a past like mine you would think that I'd love to go back and change it. That I would make my parents understand, or make myself normal. That I would want to make everything wrong in my life just go away in the blink of an eye.

The thing is that I know is that I know the truth. I know how my father is, I know the type of person he is. Changing the past isn't going to change the person he is, or the choices he would have made. Having a normal daughter might have meant that he'd never lock her up, but it doesn't change the fact that he would have.

I could change a thousand points of a timeline and still end up with the same family. I could change everything I've ever done in my life, and still end up in the same place I'm in now. Changing what happened might not make any differences in the end, so I think that I'm just better off leaving things the way they are. Because I happen to like the person that I am today.

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shalimar: (Default)
Shalimar Fox

October 2006

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