The only memory of my childhood
Is my hands banging against the wood
Of my closet door.
Me begging my father
To forgive me even though
I did no wrong.
My mother’s voice was my only support
On nights I spent in the closet,
All alone in the dark.
The support soon ceased to exist
And I was the only target left
When my mother died.
I wasn’t allowed to make friends
Or attend any parties my classmates threw
Lest I spill all his beans.
Every time the whip touched my body
My resolve to get out of here
Grew stronger and stronger.
Finally the day of rebellion arrived,
And I set my room as always
But added a blue statuette.
With hundred eyes watching me,
I left behind my identity,
And was reborn as Four.
Written for the #AtoZChallenge2017 Featured Image Courtesy: divergentfaction.wordpress.com