Ashley Ward (18)
Father of the Year
Even though my eyes are open, I am still surrounded by darkness.
The void fills with the crack of a voice in the distance.
I can’t make out what she’s saying, but I know she needs help.
I begin walking,
To save her.
It begins to get brighter as I approach her.
I hadn’t known the girl by voice.
As I get closer, her figure becomes more noticeable,
And so does the man’s.
I get close enough to see her, bleeding out on the kitchen floor.
I try to help, and get backhanded across the face.
I awaken.
I can’t remember what today is, so I look at the blackboard.
January 9th, 2019.
Almost a year ago today, she was taken from me.
It feels like forever ago since I’ve heard that laugh,
Seen that smile.
Every day I wasn’t with her only reminded me of what I could’ve done.
A hand grips my shoulder.
Those dirt-colored eyes look at me.
Cutting into my soul, making me want to confess my sins
and be purified.
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”
I sink back into the void.
Darkness.
Plentiful emptiness.
Then, I hear that voice. This time I run.
I start seeing her figure, bent and contorted.
I wipe the dirt off her lifeless body.
Dirt. Dirt?
Those eyes, as dark as dirt.
I know this girl.
I try to help, and get backhanded across the face.
I snap out of it.
I look over to say thank you,
But it is too late.
I am sitting down in my next period class.
She is gone.
The day progresses and before I know it, it is over.
My feet take me to the end of my street.
I dread stepping into that haunted house.
The man behind the door is full of hate and evil.
After what he did to that girl, there’s no way he remembers how to love.
“If you don’t start showin’ me some respect, I’m gonna beat you just like I beat her.”
Father of the year.
Willing to take both of his children’s lives
because he hates himself.
“You wanna die just like your sister?!”
I sink into the floor.
Trying to pull myself back up,
But his grasp is too strong.
Then, I hear it.
Her cries for help.
I was the only one who could’ve stopped it, and I knew that.
Running, I see her in the distance.
As I get closer, her face isn’t hers.
I didn’t ever see her eyes so red,
Her face drenched in tears.
It crushes me to see my hero, fallen.
I reach out my hand, and in he storms.
His power, striking fear into my heart.
I step back.
“Go to your room, Angie.”
The overwhelming fear takes over me.
I can’t help but to back away into my bedroom.
I slowly shut the door, thinking of what I could’ve done to save my sister’s life.
Ashley is 18 years old and getting ready to graduate in the fall of 2018. Her interest in being a creator was what really got her into writing poetry. Being able to make others feels something, whether it be through art, fashion or poetry, is what she loves to do.
Father of the Year
Even though my eyes are open, I am still surrounded by darkness.
The void fills with the crack of a voice in the distance.
I can’t make out what she’s saying, but I know she needs help.
I begin walking,
To save her.
It begins to get brighter as I approach her.
I hadn’t known the girl by voice.
As I get closer, her figure becomes more noticeable,
And so does the man’s.
I get close enough to see her, bleeding out on the kitchen floor.
I try to help, and get backhanded across the face.
I awaken.
I can’t remember what today is, so I look at the blackboard.
January 9th, 2019.
Almost a year ago today, she was taken from me.
It feels like forever ago since I’ve heard that laugh,
Seen that smile.
Every day I wasn’t with her only reminded me of what I could’ve done.
A hand grips my shoulder.
Those dirt-colored eyes look at me.
Cutting into my soul, making me want to confess my sins
and be purified.
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”
I sink back into the void.
Darkness.
Plentiful emptiness.
Then, I hear that voice. This time I run.
I start seeing her figure, bent and contorted.
I wipe the dirt off her lifeless body.
Dirt. Dirt?
Those eyes, as dark as dirt.
I know this girl.
I try to help, and get backhanded across the face.
I snap out of it.
I look over to say thank you,
But it is too late.
I am sitting down in my next period class.
She is gone.
The day progresses and before I know it, it is over.
My feet take me to the end of my street.
I dread stepping into that haunted house.
The man behind the door is full of hate and evil.
After what he did to that girl, there’s no way he remembers how to love.
“If you don’t start showin’ me some respect, I’m gonna beat you just like I beat her.”
Father of the year.
Willing to take both of his children’s lives
because he hates himself.
“You wanna die just like your sister?!”
I sink into the floor.
Trying to pull myself back up,
But his grasp is too strong.
Then, I hear it.
Her cries for help.
I was the only one who could’ve stopped it, and I knew that.
Running, I see her in the distance.
As I get closer, her face isn’t hers.
I didn’t ever see her eyes so red,
Her face drenched in tears.
It crushes me to see my hero, fallen.
I reach out my hand, and in he storms.
His power, striking fear into my heart.
I step back.
“Go to your room, Angie.”
The overwhelming fear takes over me.
I can’t help but to back away into my bedroom.
I slowly shut the door, thinking of what I could’ve done to save my sister’s life.
Ashley is 18 years old and getting ready to graduate in the fall of 2018. Her interest in being a creator was what really got her into writing poetry. Being able to make others feels something, whether it be through art, fashion or poetry, is what she loves to do.
