It seemed like I was seeing black and white. It was like the world moved slowly in my point of view. For me everything was just so.... dull. I have forgotten how to feel... happiness, anger, sadness I don't know what those feelings feel like anymore. My past is slowly fading, the memories I have are vanishing. All this pain... and cruelty, I can't take it anymore...

I don't remember spending joyful moments with my so called family, everyday was torture living in that household. I could only remember the pain... it hurts. I want it to stop...

I didn't have much memories with my friends... even if I did those memories are already starting to fade. I may have spent happy moments with them, but I also remember sorrow. I remember seeing tears fall down their eyes and I was just standing there looking at them as they shed tears. I felt happiness with them, but as everything is... it was temporary.

School... for me it was a prison. I didn't really want to learn anything. I wasn't interested... but I was forced to go because of my parents. I was forced to study and I was supposed to give my parents the highest grades despite me still being young. That only pressured me... I hate school.

A romantic life.... that's something I surely can't have. Was I even interested?... let me recall... I don't really know. But I do remember dating someone... in a game... I loved someone who didn't even exist in this world... that's how hopeless I am.

In terms of work... I wasn't really good at it. I'm not even interested in working. That would only cause stress... I didn't know what to do in the future... I don't know what I want to do or what I wanted to be. I'm so useless...

I tried being nice to people... but they only abused me. I just kept quiet... they only went near me when needed. I didn't know how I felt back then... was I sad? upset? or even happy?

In this world we live in we are bound to feel pain and suffer. No matter what we do we will always end up alone. We feel sadness and anger but we also feel happiness. We may cry but we also laugh. Each and everyone of us has a purpose... our own story. I take a deep breath and let it out. and I whisper to myself..."We exist to dissappear..."

Because of my experiences I became like this. Emotionally Numb... lost... I don't even remember my name anymore. I had nothing... I have forgotten to see colors, for I have lived so long in this monochromatic world. My name long forgotten...

What was my name again...?

Did I even have a name in the first place?

I don't remember...

I guess I'm... what you would call

Nameless

Mother... Father.... I that's what I called my parents. I remember how they looked like, and ot was a bit strange they were my parents but somehow my memory of their name seemed a bit hazy. Maybe it was because they weren't important to me...

Father was worked overseas as a seaman, he had many siblings he was the second to the last child. My father earned large amounts of money and he seemed to be very rich. Mother was a college graduate, but she ended up becoming a housewife. Her job was to take care of the small business my father left at home, and it was also her work to look after me. Father would come back home after a months... when he did he made sure to bring gifts for our relatives. Mother would always find time to spend with father alone. With them I always smiled...

I was very young back then... but I still remember a few moments with them vividly. We were seen as the perfect family... a family that was very happy, the ideal type. That's what most people see us as... but in reality we were nothing like that.

When I am seen with them, I was forced to smile. If I didn't my mother would pinch my shoulder until it bleeded. My mother and father looked loving on the outside, but they always fought when we arrived at home. Sometimes their fights would be so bad that the other one would get wounds. They were so loud... they never settled down. Everday I was forced to hear their quarrels. It was noisy...

"Noisy..." I told myself covering my ears. As I hid in the corner of the room where they were fighting. I just stared at the ground not knowing what to do... "Please stop..." I whispered and burried my face on my knees to keep myself from listening to their screams.

If father was in a bad mood... he'd take it out on me verbally. He'd yell things in front of my face such as "damn it!" , "Stupid!", "Useless! Worthless!", "Son of a bitch!" and some other curse words. Sometimes he'd even hit me, I also remeber that he use to throw things at me when he was upset. The perfect father figure that the people saw was no where to be found.

On the other hand if mother was mad... she would murmur curse words. Then she will suddenly yell at me... saying painful words. The worst parts was she'd always punch me and do other physically harmful things to me, it was a pain but I couldn't do anything. If the others saw her as a loving wife.... which she was not, everday she would always complain about father.

We had to put up an act evertime we went outside. A smiling face, hugs and kisses.... and when we were back in the house those attitudes disappeared like a bubble that dispersed.

I'd sometimes go in the bathroom and tell myself... "This is not right..." I could hear my heavy breaths, I was fearful of them. I was still so young... "I'm scared... someone please help me..." I prayed and wished.

But everything stayed the same. I put my hands together and looked up as I feel my tears start pouring down. "Why... Why God....?" I prayed silently.

My father earns a lot of money as a seaman, however he doesn't send us enough. He only gives us a little amount of money. Sometimes he would even complain and say that he sends us more than what we need. We rarely see each other because of his work, but when he does come home he spends his time in his farm. If he won't go to the farm then... he'll be with my cousins and other relatives. I felt jealous when he spent time with them... since father doesn't spend much time with me and mother.

One time I asked my father... if he loved my mother, I was still little the conversation was a bit long so I only remember the important parts of it.

"Father do you love mother?"

"I use to...."

"How about now?"

"Not anymore...."

"Why?"

"She changed... she keeps on relying on me to make money. She is too nosy. That woman cannot do anything on her own. She doesn't use her head and your mother thinks she was always right."

I already expected an answer like that. I wasn't shocked at all... so I just stayed silent. He looked mad. I wanted to ask him why he spent more time with other relatives than us, but I was scared that I might make him lose his temper. To be honest father had a point, because mom seemed to act like a gold digger she would frequently demand gifts and money. I'd try to understand him, and do my best to act nice around him to avoid getting myself and other people hurt.

It would be rare if father took me to the mall with my cousins. He acted like the best uncle. I saw him give hundred dollar bills to them, he didn't even give us single dollar. His eyes were always glued to my cousins, and I was just standing there in the background... out of place.... like I was invisible. Father often bought them all kinds of gifts even expensive ones, he would only buy me things if one of my cousins would notice me just staring. I was jealous... very jealous. 'Father... would you stop acting. I hate seeing you like this with other people, Can you even see me?' I spoke to myself...

My fathers attitude got worse as time passed by... If my grades would drop even by one point he'd yell at me nonstop. If I got even a small amount of dust in his car he would hit my head. He would sometimes tell me to go with him to work in the farm even though I was still young, I had to decline because I had an upcoming exam, I was hoping that he would understand... instead he got mad.

"You useless child! Come with me whether you like it or not! Work in the farm! You do not deserve to be in this house! I'll kick you out! Go live in the barn!" he yelled and hit my head. I wanted to speak out but I couldn't.... So I just stood there and cried. "Don't cry in front of me! Go and work in the farm and plant some rice! that's where you belong!" he shouted at my ear. Then he slammed the table which almost caused it to break "I won't feed you anymore! I won't let you attend school! Go and work on the farm!" father punched me and left. My head was spinning... I felt a bit dizzy. 'Father I thought you wanted me to have the highest grades in school... please understand that I have a quiz. And I couldn't work in the farm because I have such a frail body, not to mention I am only in 3rd grade.' I thought in my mind as I went inside my room and cried.

Father saw me as a lazy child and someone who seemed to slack off... but to be honest besides the cooking I was always the one who did all the house chores. It was even harder for me since I also had to work in the farm and carry sacks of rice and sweep the barn. He said it was for discipline I aged and the work only became harder for me, father kept on saying it was for the best and that he loved me. I assumed that these are what fathers are supposed to do, but as soon as I reached age ten I realized that this wasn't normal.

"What family was I born into...?" I asked myself before I slept.

My so called father would take me somewhere to work using his car. He would drive in a crazy speed and we would always get in accidents and I still remembered the feeling if my head hitting the car windows.

Then one mother found his phone unattended, she opened it and saw fathers pictures with other woman. He also sent messages containing words that were sugar coated to other women, words that he would never say to us. It was kinda obvious... he was dating someone else from a different country. When father came back to the house he and mother had a huge fight. I even got involved and got injured... "I wanna run away..." I whispered to myself as I was walking away from them covering the huge cut in my arm.

He was so irritable... he alwys yelled. He would yell at me even though I did nothing wrong, of he did that my eyes would tear up. However now that I have grown up... it no longer affects me.

The words he said....

"Idiot! Moron!"

"Asshole!"

"Bitch..."

"You stupid freak!"

"Shut up and die!"

"Waste of money!"

"Lazy sloth..."

"You're not my child...."

The physical pain he made me feel... all his kicks

,slaps, punches, hitting me with a stick, hitting my head on the wall....

I was used to all of it... it was a part of my daily routine evertime he arrived.

"You're not my father... you're just a person who fucked with my mom and accidentally created me." I would say that as I wrote the word DIE in my notebook over and over again while thinking of my father.