The Monster They Created (Part 1)

I will wake in the morrow,

happy, with no sorrow.

The next few days will be full of fun,

as long as nobody brings a gun.

I’m a creature of the night,

always ready to take flight.

You see, when I was a boy,

I had a lot of toys.

However, the real fun didn’t begin,

until I was ten.

My father was drinking,

the ice in his glass clinking.

His beard hanging from his chin,

he would beat me again and again.

Why did I deserve it,

because I was alive.

He hated me, his mistake.

It was me he would take,

to the barn, that’s where he caused me harm.

He began this when I was seven.

His name was Kevin.

He would begin by lighting a cigarette.

He would put it out on my arms, sometimes my legs.

Then, he would beat me until my energy was to the last dregs.

That’s when the real horror happened.

Why did it happen? Why to me?

He had other kids, couldn’t he see?

After he was finished, he would fix his pants with a zip.

Then, would take out a can, and get a dip.

I lay there crying, I missed my mama.

Why did she have to die?

We were perfect, my mother and I.

She loved me, I loved her.

She was great, that mother of mine.

She would hold me tight during bedtime.

I missed her terribly.

Father leaves the barn, a smirk on his lips.

I started having anxiety fits.

I’m his son, not his lover.

He must know, I’m not my mother.

This went on for three years.

He constantly called me Bitch or Queer.

It wasn’t my fault.

Finally, my tenth birthday arrives.

I open the door and slip inside.

He is passed out drunk.

He had a strange woman in his bunk.

She didn’t know about me.

Didn’t know of what he did.

She has no idea of the terror,

with which he dealt.

She probably would never understand my fear,

or know why I cut her ear to ear.

She scared me though, wasn’t my fault.

I had to cut her or she would bolt.

I tied her up and hit her.

She wasn’t my target though.

She was simply another hoe.

He didn’t wake while I tied his arms,

to the bed. Then, I hit him hard

right on his head.

He woke with a jerk,

I grinned my little smirk.

“What are you doing in here boy?

Go play with a toy.” That father of mine said.

Then, he realized he was tied to the bed.

“Oy, what’s going on? I thought I told her

to untie me. Well, don't just stand there boy.

Wait. What’s with the knife?”

“Father, I’m going to take your life.”

I raised that blade.

This was fun. He must’ve thought it was a game.

“Put that down son.

Or I will play with your bum.

It’s a little early yet,

I’m still horny, no thanks to Juliet.”

I then stabbed him in his tummy.

“I. Miss. My. Mummy!!!!!”

I cried. I stabbed him again, and again.

I began to enjoy it. This was real fun.

No more crying,

no more hiding.

He will never hurt me again.

I’m no longer his slave.

I have been saved.

I let the girl go.

She cried and ran out.

Then, the cops show.

They put me in handcuffs.

I’m taken to a building.

They place me in a room,

it’s around noon.

A strange man comes talk to me,

I tell him my story.

Told him why I did it.

Why I stabbed him and pulled out his intestines.

Of how I don’t like the old testament.

I let him know how much fun it was.

Of course, he didn’t agree.

He doesn’t like how I’m happy.