Losing Lost

How can you lose something you never have?

The question repeated in my mind over and over again. Something I never have is love. My brother got into a car crash while driving to the hospital to see me entering this world. After my mother find out about my brother death she started to drinking a lot. The last memory I had of her was popularly when I was three. I remember waking up to an officer telling me that my mother die in a car crash in front of our house.

My entire family died. The only who takes care of me was my father. But he didn't treat me well. I had been bully. I had been hit, a lot of times. Sometimes I been hit for no reason. They always hit me for something I didn't do. The family over there treated me like a piece of toy. A piece of toy to express anger on. Nothing I ever do all say ever made them care.

I been hurt too much to the point that I start to stop crying. Cause if I just keep crying the punishment gonna get worse. No matter how many times I been hurt I don't cry anymore. When I don't cry and keep silent they hurt me even more. But when I cry they still hit me more. I never once give eyes contact to them cause I know for a fact that they gonna give me more punishment.

Do I love them? No. Do I care for them? No. They all had a better live than me. They went to a private school. They have friends who they could talk to. While me over here who barely could afford going to school. Who can't even talk to a person without them judging me. I have to search and beg for change on the street so I could afford lunch. Sometimes they would lock me outside in the rain. I would visit my brother grave and wonder is he like that? Is he cruel like them?

The only thing that keeps me comfort after all this years is a voice. There was always a voice in my head. It was the only thing I had when I come to this world. It was only thing that I trust. The only thing I have. My mother never give me love or care. She always thought of me as a mistake. A nobody. A useless, nothing child. You could all say I made the voice up. But I'm not. The voice is something that is real. The voice is something that had it own emotions. The voice is alive. It is it own life.

It not a human but it also not a monster. It not just a sound. It not just a voice. It a Voice. It dark but light at the same times. When it let you hear or feel it. It made you feel like you belong in this world. Like you're important. It made you feel like there is still hope in this life. But at the same time there is another layer around your body. This one fill with hatred, anger, frustration, and sadness.  The thought of it made you want to break. It like your heart had been rip from your body and shatter into millions piece. It made you feel like hope is impossible.