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The things i do to myself to stitch you up

I had this guy called ‘Wide Smile Theodore’ burn my mother’s house down and handed me the tank of gasoline and a match. I haven’t spoken a word and submissively taken the blame. My body still suffers from the things I’ve never done.

Wide smile Theodore looked my mother in the eye while he slit her cats throat.

He handed me the knife.

I merely stood there knowing that the plates and miniature statues will be sprung towards me with a roaring thunder of screams and cries.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU WHORE”

“HOW CAN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BE GUTTED FROM ME”

Wide smile Theodore kept doing the same sorts of sinister acts for as long as my childhood lasted. Though, I was the one with the bruised eye. The one the nurses kept an eye on in case I tried to find God my own way. The one with empty eye sockets and no reason for lips.

You see, the reason why Wide Smile Theodore is named like that is due to the fact that his smile gets wider the more wicked he gets. Especially when drunk.

My mother loves him too much. I do too. I carry the blame in hopes he’d notice that he isn’t carrying anything on his back. That he doesn’t have to do this. In hopes that maybe if I carried all his weight regardless of the consequences… Maybe, i’d stitch a hint of him back together using my own flesh to shut the wounds.

Or maybe because I can’t sell out my own father.

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