Winter's Bone [Kendall]

Everyone is broken. Something in life always will come and try to shatter our delicate feelings and bones. Even the strongest people are broken. Sometimes they are the most broken of us all. I am broken, my father beat me until he knew that I was. Just like he was beaten down by everyone in this world. Mother never is really broken until you hear her tears though the wall. Hopelessness is when you truly are defeated and you just give up. I haven't given up yet. I am waiting to be put back together. And I think that's what keeps the world in balance. People get broken but they mend each other and face life again but stronger the next time. My father has broken me down so much I don't have much hope in ever being whole again. All I can to is make sure others aren't broken down as badly as I. 

Wallowing in self pity never really did anyone much good. All they ever accomplished was well nothing. I wallowed in self pity while pretending to be fine. I don't think anyone really understands what it's like to be hurt until you meet Kat. She's so fragile and innocent, my last dying wish is for her to stay that way and never realize how incredibly broken she was fem the start. Blind. Darkness. Somehow she learned to live with her setbacks and I can learn from that. I can learn from her. 

I walk out of the bakery, dusting off the white flour off my trousers. I always see Kat walking home when I get off work. Her red hair bouncing until she feels the stairs with her nimble finger tips. Kat is always been the type of person who always sees the best in me. I have never been the good guy. I am sure she knows that. I knew Kat when she was young when she had her eyesight. Always was a brother to her. But we have sibling like bond that I want so badly to be blood. 

Watching from the doorstep and dusting my pants so hair the flour seemed to be engraving itself in my pants I hear a shriek and immediately I rush over to Kat and grab her arm. "Why do I always end up saving you from disaster, Katty?" I laugh and smile even though she will never know. I like to explain the sunset to her.

Maybe her sightless perspective was a blessing in a way. She never had to see the worst only what I tell her. 

Just because you do bad things doesn't make you a bad person. Mother always told me that when I was little whenever I would cry to her because father was angry. She would clean my wounds and kiss my forehead and whisper those words to me as she nursed me back to a state of wellness. Whenever father would beat me I would just remember those words. Just because you do bad things does t make you a bad person. Mother taught me that everyone makes a mistake. But Father makes the same mistakes over and over again. The fog has lifted and I realized he was nothing but a horrible man who did horrible things to me. I never want to turn out like him. I think the saying applies to me and not him but how am I any better?

I wasn't a bad person. I love, and he doesn't. I care and help and he doesn't. But I make mistakes over and over again too. Which doesn't make me a bad person does it? Me and my best friend always seem to cause trouble when we are with each other. But I love her with all my heart. But she's crazy, she likes to watch fire overtake the object as it burns around it. We can't see each other anymore not after she saw father beating me, no one can know about that. I caused her to get hurt. I always hurt people I care about. My father threatened to hurt her if I was ever caught talking her again. I miss her dark eyes with the reflection of the fire.

In some ways I she her in Katty. They were both fiery and beautiful. They were both some of the most brilliant young women I have met. Yet they were both broken in their own ways. Katty is blind, she was crazy. Isn't it funny how much that explains the word? Blind and crazy.

Following Katty I let her arm go as she tried to walk by herself. Running my hands through my hair to get the flour out of my hair. I watch as the girl Jasmine rolls her eyes and runs away. I choose not to tell Katty and just smirk like a goon as she finds her way around. "My day?" I ask with a laugh. It sucked. I woke up early to clean the house and got beaten because I did it wrong then I went to school then worked at the bakery (today was my half day) and to be honest this was the best part of my day. "Just brilliant. I snagged some cookies from the bakery. You can have then if you want."

I hold out the bag and brush it on her arm for her to feel around and quickly cover up the huge gash on my forearm form father. My heart beats fast. How do you explain that you are beaten because you are a disgrace of a son who can't do anything right? You can't. "How about your Katty? Run into anyone I need to beat up?" I laughs little. She knows if anyone ever gives her a hard time they have a black eye. If there is one things I learned from my father it was how to throw punches.

Once someone tells you something for so long you start to believe it. I am starting to believe I was a waste of space.

My father's voice always is in the back of my mind. His deep tone telling me everything that was wrong with me. 'Who would have guessed? My only child, a son, can't do anything right. You are such a disappointment Thaddeus.' I am very sure he will never fail to tell me how worthless I was. A child of his should amount to greatness. Then I was no child of his. Because a child of his wouldn't hang out with a pyro and embarrass himself. I like myself the way I am but no matter what I will always find myself changing to try to get him to smile at me. Tell me how I wasn't a waste of space And the worst part was that I didn’t even know what I did to make him think this of me. I must have just been born and he didn’t even stop to accept the fact he had a son to take care of, not an animal who he could hit at free will because I did something that made himangery. Maybe I made friends with the wrong people. I sit and thing about this every night. A 17 year old boy crying wasn’t a usual sight. I never really showed compassion outside my own room. .

I once asked my father if I am such a disgrace to him, why doesn't he just have another child. He looked at me and told me that he didn't want to risk having another child like me. That hurt. I can usually rub off some of the things he says but that stung. The only person that could give me a compliment was my mother. Nina was a littler harder but I have gotten compliments from her. And that makes me feel special because she actually ment them. Katty, she was like my little sister. I know she doesn’t really look up to me, but I love her for some reason. But his words always are in the back of my mind. He doesn't even want to be seen with me anymore. How does my mother not see this? I try to block his noise out of my head and myself his words don’t mean a thing.

They do. I lie to myself.

We must all suffer one of two things the pain of discipline or the pain of regret or disappointment. I know this is true because no matter what everyone has regrets. In order to be human you need to feel regret. Because everyone makes mistakes. So my father must not be human. He doesn't feel guilt or regret for anything he does. When you looks into his eyes they are cold stones that show no emotion as he hits. Every time he swings it seems like his eyes get colder. Stone cold like he has no soul. If he's a monster I must be a monster too. But I have a soul because I feel regret and disappointment. It fills my daily life every day.

Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself. I used to lay around and feel sorry for myself when I was sad. And I found myself wasting my life because I happened to be sad quite a lot. But I had I life, a thing many people have lost and fought really hard to keep. And I have one friend, Nina.

Nina is a interesting girl to say the least. My father hates her, he told me from day one to stay away from her but naturally I didn't listen and marched right up to her. It took awhile but I warmed up to her. I am confident and she is see. Thats were we head butt sometimes, we both are leaders. Some people ask me how we are friends. Since we are seen bickering and throwing sarcastic comments at each other. I laugh because they haven't seen us when we actually have genuine conservations. Granted that doesn't happen as much as sarcastic remarks, but at least we have them from time to time. Katty, my father doesn’t think much of. To be honest I don’t let Katty around that man. In fear he would pick apart her just like he picks apart me. Nina knows my father hurts me. but Katty doesn’t. She’s pure and innocent and I wish to keep it this way.

I smile at Katty as she moves her fingers on the cokies trying to pick out the right one for her. “Just sugar cookies, Katty.” I smile and pull out a chocolate one for me. That’s my favorite. How could I resist the temptation of this? As I bit into the pastery, Katty zones out and enters her village. I wasn’t sure what it was but she talks about it sometimes. Maybe it’s her way of coping with her condition. A way to forget the world. At least she can do that… I can’t. I wonder if I am in her village. I wonder if I was a villian, a hero, or a brother? She snaps back into the real world and I sigh. “Sometimes I wish I could escape my troubles like that too Katty.” I guide her to the bench and sit down. “That’s you r advantage, you can’t see the bad around you, so it doesn’t exisit.” My world is District 5. I hate this world.

From the park bench I watch the people walk by. Everyone was always in a big rush to get to the next place they never stopped to look around then. They never look and stopped to see half of the fun was getting there. They didn't even lift their eyes from the concrete ground as the walked, missing everything. I smirk and her face matches that even though we were smirking over two different things. "You don't know the half of it," She says eating the last bit if the cookie. I don't reply at first. I tried to collect my thoughts. I shrugged. "You're right. I don't know," I watch my co worker leave the bakery in a hurry down the opposite road as where Katty and I are.

I got a job a few months ago. My father told me that I wasn't going to just mooch on him since I didn't earn my keep. I went and got a job and I knead dough and open ovens for hours to make some extra Capitol so I can buy myself a new pair of boots since father will not support me for stuff like that. I wonder what it's like to have caring parents and a father who teaches you how to gosh rather then reminding you how much you failed him every time you took a step. It becomes exhausting to listen too and I find myself wanting to act out even more and more.

I don't want to get hurt.

And that's what I think humans main focus is. Not to get hurt. Physical or mental pain it doesn't matter. Everyone wants to stay safe no matter how you are timid or a daredevil. We recline from a physical pain from a broken arm and then emotional pain as well. Physical pain is better then mental pain. You can fix a broken bone you have to set it and heal it slowly but emotional pain never gets fixed. It's always with you for the rest of your life. It is like little tears in you skin until one day it just rips and you loose it.

And maybe that's why Katty has her land, that's her way of dealing with her emotional pain. I look at her as she sits nibbling on the cookie with her long nimble fingers. I felt compassion for her and care. "You know the saying love is blind?" I ask her. "If love is blind, then maybe a blind person that loves has a greater understanding of it." I shake my head. "That's something I will never have."