Oh no! Here she comes again. Mom please! I don't want to fight. Please stop yelling. I didn't take your food. I swear.
I'm not listening to this. I walk away. Mom! What are you doing? Why did you put my head through the wall.
I punch, I kick. I fight back. Why are you choking me? I bite her arm.
My aunt calls the police. Four officers break up the fight. Why am i being cuffed. Why isnt she going too? I didn't do anything wrong.
The detective questions me. I spend three days in county jail. The district attorney finally drops the charges. Now I have to go back to her.
Please Lord let me live. I promise to do good. I'll change I promise. Please don't let me die.
This actually did happen to me when I was 15 years old. My mother was/still is emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive to me. Though the physical abuse has mostly stopped since I am trained in the use of firearms, baton, pepper spray, jujitsu, and defense and arrest tactics.
You tried to pull a gun on me. I just pulled mine faster But what you don't know is Three days later I put my gun to my head. I couldn't live with the fact That I almost pulled the trigger on you That I was ready to stop your threat. What you don't know is one month later I still had nightmares That I overdosed on pills Hoping to never wake up. Six months later I still see your face I still think of the what ifs One year later I still wake up screaming Fighting your invisible threat. One year and six months later You voice still haunts me. You were eager to **** be because I wore a badge and gun.
My coworkers ***** me. Two against me. What you two didnt see The detectives interrogated me. Told me I asked for it I should have fought back One day later the detective picks me up I tried over dosing minutes before they came They noticed the cuts but didn't notice That I was falling fast I couldn't keep my eyes open. My speech was slurring I walked like i was drunk I made it through the **** kit I got home and slept for three days straight One month later i quit my job. My body couldn't handle the stress I kept dissociating. Six months later I still couldn't have ***. I started learning jujitsu I had bought a gun One year later I was more confident But i still feared *** I feared men I still had nightmares Two years later I'm still managing to struggle I still hear your voices Still see your faces Still feel you in my dreams Two years and six months later I'm more confident. I still have difficulty with men. But now I am well on my way to be a police officer An EMT I can't let you win! Ever!
I see you, As I walk my beat. The soul who's life as been so rough You've turned to drugs to cope. I see you over dosing on the corner. I call for help as you become a pulseless, nonbreather, I start hands only CPR. As they dispatch help. Please don't give up. There's so much more to life. I give it my all as I hear the sirens blare in the night. But help comes to late. I stand in shock. I give my statement. I finish my shift and go home to cry.
I see you, The guy trying to **** me because I wear a badge and a gun. Please don't make me shoot you. I just want to go home at night. Shoots fired, shoots fired. He's down, I gave him five warnings, “show me your hands.” I didn't want to. Really I didn't.
I see you, The guys that ***** me. I see you You forced my hand. I can't walk the streets unarmed. You messed with my head, And got away with it.
The nightmares come. I see them. I want them to stop. I'm so numb now. I cut myself to feel again. I see the scars. I cover them. Others cannot know I'm weak. They look up to me.
The horrors I see. Will they ever stop?
Working in security I've seen many things. Theses are only a few that have stuck with me.
The rage, the urge to fight. The feeling of being a burden, why am I still here? Why can't I give up?
The high, its coming back, I can't give up. There are so many people that need my help. I have to prove those that have hurt me that I am so much more.
The high its going higher. I haven't slept in days. Why must I become the evil That I fight. Why do I find so much glee in causing mayhem? Why do I fight the very people I want to become?
Oh no, here comes the crash. The remorse, the guilt. I'm sorry for everything. Please just let me die. I fall behind in homework. The scars grow in numbers again. I can't, I won't fight back. Please just leave me alone.
Some how I put on my uniform. I strap myself into my bullet proof vest. I buckle my duty belt. I check my gun, my pepper spray, my handcuffs. Knowing that if something happens, even though I want to die, evil cannot win. I will fight. I wish those weapons would fight the demons inside me.
Instead I take my pills. I pull on my boots. Polish my badge and name tag. I get in my squad. I go protect the people at my post.
The demon is back. I'm feeling restless. Will it ever stop? Please!? Help?!