A Sad Realization

Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me. I remember you sharing this with me one day after school. You had seen a little girl recite this to a bully and the monster had backed off, but your monster hadn’t backed off. I tried to tell you that it isn’t true but you didn’t listen. You gathered your courage and recited it to your monster. There were screams and then you stumbled back into your room, damaged by the sticks, the stones, and the words. You laid your head against my chest and I comforted you until you eventually cried yourself asleep. Your father cannot be scared away with a simple school yard chant, my darling. He’s not a bully, he’s a drunk. You used to have such a great mind when we were happy, when alcohol was not a part of our family. In the beginning, you would tell me stories, seeds of your imagination to chase away the pain and depression. Slowly the amount of stories would decrease until eventually there was only silence as you sat there, tears streaming down your cheeks. Just like that, your light was gone. Your eyes grew dark like the bruises which plastered your skin. He kicks me too you know. When I’m in his way, or when he needs to take his anger out on something and you’re at school. I screamed at him, telling him to stop but he doesn’t listen. I can remember most vividly, the day you had the worst. I was outside trying to get away until I heard the shouts and screams from within the house. And then, suddenly, they stopped altogether. I ran into your room trembling with fear and there you were, lying on the floor. Your nose and lip bleeding and your tears mixing with the blood. I cried out! I wanted to help so desperately! I want to stop all this pain! But what can I do? I’m only a dog…