CONCRETE ANGELS by Tempest, from Catholic Regional College Melton
The harsh wind pulled at my clothing and left me with painful red marks across my fragile and bruised arms. I sat on my old suitcase, barely noticing the cars that flew past my injured body.
The ice of winter covered everything around me, turning everything to a white sheet. Covering any flaws and mistakes from the past; a fresh start.
My world had crumbled down before my eyes and my dreams have all but been forgotten. Cuts and bruises lettered my pale skin but I had grown used to the company of pain and loss. I now know that many children are like me; once convinced that they didn’t deserve love, dying never knowing what love was. Becoming nothing more than names on stone. Becoming concrete angels. My father was a drunken brute with no compassion towards anyone. He had beaten me to the brink of death, more times than a cat has lives. My mother had disappeared many years ago; most likely as a result of my father. She used to intervene in my father’s cruel punishments… I don’t know what happened to her.
Years on and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had stopped believing it was my fault. I ran. Bags packed and bus ticket in hand, I had escaped the hell I had lived through for seven torturous years. Breathing in and out, I wrapped my arms around my body and hunched over even further. The bus shelter was housing the marks of many youths and the glass looked as if it would shatter at any moment; yet I felt comfort. My brown hair was becoming knotted from the wind and my clothes were only second hand but as I looked up, tears of joy sprung to my eyes. I have now taken control of my life and can now live my life without the gut-wrenching fear of my father’s footsteps coming up the hallway to my room.
The bus rolled up to the shelter and I scurried on, suitcase in hand. A gush of warmth greeted me upon entry and I shared a small smile with the driver as I took my seat. As the doors closed excitement coursed through my veins. I had very little with me but I now had something that I once would’ve seen as a childish wish, my freedom. Warm tears rushed down my face as everything blurred past my window. I was finally free. I wouldn’t become another concrete angel.
The harsh wind pulled at my clothing and left me with painful red marks across my fragile and bruised arms. I sat on my old suitcase, barely noticing the cars that flew past my injured body.
The ice of winter covered everything around me, turning everything to a white sheet. Covering any flaws and mistakes from the past; a fresh start.
My world had crumbled down before my eyes and my dreams have all but been forgotten. Cuts and bruises lettered my pale skin but I had grown used to the company of pain and loss. I now know that many children are like me; once convinced that they didn’t deserve love, dying never knowing what love was. Becoming nothing more than names on stone. Becoming concrete angels. My father was a drunken brute with no compassion towards anyone. He had beaten me to the brink of death, more times than a cat has lives. My mother had disappeared many years ago; most likely as a result of my father. She used to intervene in my father’s cruel punishments… I don’t know what happened to her.
Years on and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had stopped believing it was my fault. I ran. Bags packed and bus ticket in hand, I had escaped the hell I had lived through for seven torturous years. Breathing in and out, I wrapped my arms around my body and hunched over even further. The bus shelter was housing the marks of many youths and the glass looked as if it would shatter at any moment; yet I felt comfort. My brown hair was becoming knotted from the wind and my clothes were only second hand but as I looked up, tears of joy sprung to my eyes. I have now taken control of my life and can now live my life without the gut-wrenching fear of my father’s footsteps coming up the hallway to my room.
The bus rolled up to the shelter and I scurried on, suitcase in hand. A gush of warmth greeted me upon entry and I shared a small smile with the driver as I took my seat. As the doors closed excitement coursed through my veins. I had very little with me but I now had something that I once would’ve seen as a childish wish, my freedom. Warm tears rushed down my face as everything blurred past my window. I was finally free. I wouldn’t become another concrete angel.