The Moment I Faced the Monster Within
“I hate you and I hope you die”, I painfully cried out.
The words came out of my mouth faster than I could think, I had barely even thought them, I’m not sure I really even had. It was as if something had taken over my lips, shaping the corners of my mouth, clacking my tongue against my teeth, and shaking my vocal cords.
It was me. I had spoken those nasty words. I tried to take them back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that I don’t want you to die.” I cried harder. But it was futile. They had already been spoken.
“Once something is said, it cannot be unsaid”, my grandma’s voice rang true in my head.
We had been fighting, or rather I had been getting yelled at, the whole way down the mountain. We were nearing home — a home that would never be home again. I was getting nervous.
When we arrived I gathered my things, banging them around, hoping that my visible emotional distress would change his mind. It didn’t. He drove me to my new home — a place of refuge.
Just before he sped off leaving me with a pile of things and my dog, he sharply muttered: “I hate you and I hope you die.” My body dropped to the ground as if I had just been punched in the stomach, I was sobbing harder than I had before.
His revenge was perfectly timed.
This was the moment I was shown I am a monster. It may seem small to you, especially when there are so many larger evils in this world. But in this moment I hated myself more than I had ever hated anything in my life. I felt the seething anger and immense pain in that single retort. It was there, existing in the space between us, it’s energy vibrating intensely in the moment.
And in that moment, I was a monster.
Memoirs of a broken spirit.