Dreaming With A Broken Heart

The feeling is like no other. I wish they’d just leave me alone. They’re always bugging me. I can’t be my own person. Why did God take her away from me?

Sometimes I get lost in my own world. They all call me a freak; they tell me I’m useless. I’m never good enough for anyone. My mom wonders if I’m even her son. I’m scared. I hate life. I hate my name. I see things in a way no one else does. I get yelled at for not being good enough. Kids tell me to die already. It hurts… a lot.

It's okay to write a sad story, it's not okay when you can relate. When you can relate, it's more sad than the story itself...

*contains mild language*
Copyright © 2015 by bella zaffino
Copyright © 2015 Dreaming With A Broken Heart
Copyright © 2015 Cover Photo by bella zaffino

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form


3. Don't Wake Me Up

“Greg, are you there? Are you there? Help me please! I promise I’m not cheating this time something’s got me!” Twenty words, all her last, and all the truth. I was idiotic enough to think she was trying to win a game. I should’ve gone, even if she was just doing so I’d lose, it was just a stupid game! Family day, Christmas, Easter, April Fools, April 23rd, all those days and more, just aren’t the same without Anabelle.

My mom and I had a special relationship, she got pregnant with me when she was seventeen, and my dad on the other hand; he was an alcoholic and died in a car crash three years after I was born. My mom and I only had each other, but what she didn’t know was she was two months pregnant with Anabelle when he’d died. She met a man named Robert five months after my dad died; they fell in love I guess, but that’s when the relationship with my mom changed. Some people tell me to be grateful that I’ve got a step dad but it’s hard accepting someone who slowly replaced me. Anabelle was only four when she had passed away; I’m not sure how she died really, after she screamed, I called the police, but when they got there, it was seconds too late. They tried to shield me; they said the sight wasn’t pleasant for a seven year old. I never even got to say goodbye, I never got to tell her how much her birth meant to me. Her death affected us all, but mainly me as we were so close. I guess from that day, everything went downhill.

“EXPELLED?! YOU GOT EXPELLED?! YOU CANT POSSIBLY BE MY SON, BECAUSE MY SON ISN’T STUPID ENOUGH TO START A FIGHT WITH SOMEONE FIVE YEARS OLDER, FOR THE THIRD TIME?!” there was a minute of silence before I spoke as she rubbed her face in her hands. “…Yeah I got expelled but it wasn’t my fault, he provoked me, he told me I should be dead, just like my sister. I wasn’t going to put up with that was I! So I told him to fuck off, and then he punched me! But dad always told me when they throw it at you; you throw it back and tell them they can keep it.” She didn’t like me bringing up dad, ever. She’d said words I shouldn’t repeat and told me things I didn’t want to hear. That’s when Robert spoke to me for the first time in weeks, “If you follow in your dads footsteps you’ll be dead at 21 as well, you understand that kid? And as for Anabelle, let go of it she’s dead, end of!” ‘You’ll be dead at 21 as well,’ ‘Kid,’ ‘as for Anabelle, let go of it she’s dead, end of,’’ like who the fuck does he think he is? Jeremy Kyle? I’m probably twice the man he is and I’m only 10.

I kept telling myself Anabelle was just having a really long nap, but it’s not working anymore. I know she’s not waking up, and maybe people should just leave me too, maybe they should stop waking me up. Everyone would be happier, it’s like I’m the most expensive diamond in the world, but no one has the money to buy me, so they give up, stop trying. So maybe I should give up, yanno, stop trying.

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