Wishing for Death–Kindra M. Austin

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Understand me. I wished him dead. I did have half a mind to kill him once, with a cast iron skillet, caught up in the white-hot frenzy. I was fourteen years old, and convinced I was prepared to murder the man choking my mother in the kitchen while a beef roast baked in the oven. He’d caught my arm reaching into the bottom cupboard and slammed the door on me repeatedly until I fell back on my ass and slinked away, screaming.

Screaming.

I was always screaming for Ken to stop hitting my mother; to stop tugging on my sister; to stop frightening us; to leave us alone, and go off someplace to fucking die. The motherfucker was a habitual drunk driver. Why didn’t he ever crash into the trees? Or swerve off a bridge? Never once have I felt a pang of guilt for wishing–praying for liberation to come in the form of this man’s well-deserved death.

During the years my mother and Ken were together, I suffered through my first crisis of faith; and I mean faith in the universal sense. My father failed to save me and Tara. My mother failed to save us all. And what’s fucked up is at the time, I thought I was failing.

I often wished I’d wake up dead, being that Ken was indestructible. And I berated myself for being too cowardice to follow through with any of the suicide plans I had concocted in the night. But then I’d see my little sister, defenseless, and I knew I’d be a coward* to leave her alone; if I didn’t want to live for myself, I had to live for her.

*Suicide is not about cowardice. It is about pain, and the desperation to be relieved of that pain. To say I would have been a coward to take my life is what I needed to tell myself to be strong and fight for my life. I mean no disrespect.

3 thoughts on “Wishing for Death–Kindra M. Austin

  1. “It’s an odd thing to say, given the context, but damn…”

    You said this to me recently and I’m going to use it, because… this post is the BEST example of your talents, imo. You have a knack of engaging the reader with such raw and shocking reality. I HATE that this happened to you, but your courage and tenacity shines through. I’m cheering for you. It’s beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What is it that keeps such evil alive, ready, willing, and able to crush the spirit out of beautiful souls? The image of him slamming the door on you as you reached for something to fight back is very vivid. Thank you for living through it and living on to commune with others. {{{{HUGS}}}}

    Like

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