I’m a newbie writer so I wrote this little piece for creative writing class. – But I made some corrections: because I realize how much work my sentence structure and grammar need, lol. So I rewrote it with the purpose of improving my writing skills. Enjoy!
The Other Child
Such a broken disaster – Mother could never recover the from the trauma endured. She was never the same. She could never reach the peak of her greatness again: the peak father had burdened with the avalanche of hurt he unleashed on her.
Mother knew best. We went a 1,000 miles north of Alaska, “The further away from father, the better” she said.
Father was a broken man. Father was mentally ill: he had voices of a thousand sailors cursing in his head; demonizing his family and turning him into the mirror image of Satan himself (Almost if something out of a 70’s slasher movie).
He always remained a gentleman when I saw him. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but see him as a fraud – a juxtaposition – a sick duality: an angel by day and demon by night. He always wanted to protect me; always wanted the best for me. But in the process of protecting me: he only managed to hurt and push me and mother further away.
I love father and I know he loves us too. Although, I know he can’t express it, because he’s mentally ill: almost as if a child was buried deep inside the trauma; neglected after all these years – too afraid of asking for a hug or gesture of love.
Here I stand: a child, ready to give the other ‘child’ all the hugs and love he never received in his life.