Thank you For everything Of the things you have done Thank you For the fear Of having no where to run Thank you For the pain That left me in tears Thank you For the trauma Over all these years Thank you For scaring me Almost half to death Thank you For neglecting me Only praying to be fed Thank you for making me A better parent than yourself Thank you For showing me What not to be myself Thank you For lying to me And breaking my trust Thank you For pushing me away Making me need to readjust All of these things Makes me wonder Why even bother And how All I ever wanted Was someone to call father So thank you For making me Afraid of loving Thank you Dear father For nothing.

‘Thank you. For nothing’ You had said. ‘For nothing’ You had said. Nothing? What is ‘Nothing’? Was helping you learn to fly, Nothing? Was helping you reach the stars, Nothing? Please, I am curious. Was helping you out of the dark caves, Teaching you to walk once again, Was it all nothing? I would beg, I would plead, Down on my knees, For you to come back to me. For you to fall into my arms once again, And I would care for you. And I would love you. But that shall be no more. I will not sob, I am not as pathetic, As you seem to think, I am better. And if you would once again, Come stumbling back, Searching for my aid, You will only find locked doors. Please, for once, Think of others, And learn their value, For I am not disposable. Learn to be a good friend, Learn to see people, Instead of my blinded, By your own light. I hope that you will, I hope that no one shall go through what I have. I hope you will no longer betray, And you will learn to stay.

Monitors beeped harmoniously. Wires and IV bags decorated along side his bed. He laid so still, a statue of a man, as if Medusa herself taken him as her next victim. I sat in the chair located in the farthest right corner, just staring. Watching each time his chest would rise and felt as if it took a century to fall back down. His breaths were becoming strained and despite the state he was in he moaned a gargled sound every once in awhile. Still unmoving. It’d been a week since he opened his eyes last. The doctor said there wasn’t much time left, his organs hanging on by a thread. My emotions were caught in a crossfire, relief and grief battling against each other. Each day one would outweigh the other but as his end came closer I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders. A bearing weight of a thousand suns sat right on top of me. Didn’t life know I was only so strong? No one came to visit him, my dad, not a single soul. My mother has since passed. My brother was smarter than I and kept his distance. He made sure to let me know how stupid I was for even being by his side. I was the only one here for him and the thought turned my stomach sour. I rubbed the scar on my temple as flashbacks started to pour in. I was 8, so full of life even as a young child. I remember playing with my hand made dolls that were created with nothing but milk jugs and old worn fabric from outgrown dresses. I was outside, barefoot in the grass, imagining a world where no pain existed. My dolls were in love and had a happy family. One that I wish I could relate to. I remember feeling the sunshine that was warming my bones being eclipsed by a large shadow. Coolness took over the decadent heat and I looked up to see his piercing blue eyes stabbing into me. “You didn’t do your goddamn chores, girl.” He snarled through liquor infused breaths. My dad wore the same greased stained overalls as he always did, smelling of oil and cigars. I reached over to gather my dolls hurriedly before his anger grew. I knew the consequences. But before I could even grab one something hard and rigid struck me right in the head. Immediately the sun was no longer shining and darkness surrounded my vision, specks of light dancing amongst the void. I barely heard myself whimper with distraught pain before finally blacking out. I remember waking up that same evening in my brother’s bed, a searing headache forming. My brother, Jonah, stood above me cleaning my face with a wet rag. He looked at me with tear filled eyes and something else…pure anger. “He did it, didn’t he?” He said through clenched teeth. His young features hardened and he wore the face of a man home from war instead that of one of a 10 year old. I release my hand from the scar and the flashback fades but the pain does not. I look at my dad, so close to death that if he were able he could taste it on his lips. A fire burns in my spirit and the regret of giving him my time of day builds feverishly. I stand up and make a choice. Walking to his bed, I took in his face that was once fuller and cheeks that were once blushed pink by the alcohol he consumed. His skin now clung to each fragment of his skull and he was a dull paleish color. All life had already been drained. I carefully slid his pillow out from under his head and paused. Revenge was a complicated thing to want. At this moment, it felt more like a need. A craving. I placed the pillow on his face and before I could think, I pressed down firmly, putting all my weight into this act of vengeance. He squirmed ever so slightly. Moaned just barely. And I thought to myself, is that all you have to say for yourself? His movements stopped and alarms blared, pulling me back to reality. “Thank you. For nothing.” I said, a single tear falling. I placed the pillow back under him and walked away with my head held high.

Thank you for not being there after you put me in a state of despair. For sometimes showing up and pretending as if you were always there. Thank you for showing me I could still breathe with out air. I crawled under your skin and made a home that I believed we could share. Eventually the walls started melting around me. It took a year to see losing you set me free. Thank you for always putting yourself above everything. For making me feel like a bad human being. Now I’m strong and smart and stunning. So thank you for everything, and thank you again for nothing.

They say everything will be ok And some say that they won’t Why should I listen to what people say? It doesn’t matter if I don’t This is life Yes, I’m aware But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a right to be scared People insane, people on drugs Humans sticking to things they love And I’m just in a corner alone; eyes shut, knees bent Because everything is not a dove The world is shit Full of shitty politicians Full of shitty people Full of shitty rich people who have nothing to do but to watch people suffer I’m tired I’m so tired And I know the world is going to get worse I just hope that God is real, that he destroys this world I don’t care about myself I know I’ll go to hell Just get it over with Spare my family Because I know that I’m going to die soon Whether by a gun A car A missile An atomic bomb My sheets It’s going to be soon And I can’t wait So world, Person who created me **Thank you. For nothing.** *** _(I’m honestly fine. Just worried about our country—the dividing lines. The manipulation. The trickery. The corruption of powerful individuals. How did the world come to this?_ _When is it going to end? Why did I have to be born to live this? _ _I just wanna go to sleep.)_

She pressed her cool hand to his now beating heart. “I am not permitted to this…” Her hand went to his head, to erase all memories of her. But he took her hand and pressed it to his heart again. “My heart burns again thanks to you. Permit me to cherish all memories of you deep within, my lady.” She looked at him uncertainly but all of that melted under his intense passionate fiery gaze. The honesty and longing she saw there made her commit absolute faith into him. “I shall take you at your word, warrior.” She said, grateful her voice did not crack in a sob. No more dreams of him. No longer would she feel his warm embrace, or gaze in his intense eyes. No more encouraging fulfilling words. For his return to life meant he was no longer haunting her. By saving him she severed au dedans the thread of fate they shared. She attempted to speak again, but was rendered speechless by his sad smile, the same one he wore when he died. When she found her words again, she said firmly. “You must tell no one. No one must know of what I have…what we…have done here.” Her lips covered his as she began to disappear back into her realm of origin. His eyes were the last to disappear, their odd color of red and gold shimmering in her view under a sheen of tears. His last words echoed across time snd space where they final reached her, their final promise ringing endlessly in her ears. “My lady…Thank you. For nothing.”

I’ve been sober three years, did you know that? Alcohol used to make me suicidal. I think even now, it still would. I wasn’t stupid for feeling weak, I was stupid for trusting the one person who wasn’t supposed to let me down. And I guess I was tired of being let down. I was let down a few too many times, I think. That time, when I broke the windshield, and pushed a car across a busy intersection with nothing but anger and resentment. (It wasn’t my fault for being angry that I was lied to.) That time, when I was 15 and I told you I wanted to die for the first time. (I didn’t need to go to a hospital, I needed my parent to give a fuck.) That time, when I had to walk 8 blocks to work in the freezing cold. (I had already mopped the floor 4 times. I’m sorry it wasn’t good enough.) I bought a house, did you know that? I needed out of the constant reminder of my ex husband that reminded me of you far too often. I think even now, it would still be a reminder. I wasn’t stupid for leaving, I was stupid for expecting change. And I guess I was tired of expecting change. I expected it too many times. That time, when I told you I was different. (I knew from 5 years old, I didn’t expect punishment for a human feeling.) That time, when I told you that yelling at me didn’t help me. (I wanted to die, and you were yelling about dishes when I worked two jobs and still went to school.) Just so we’re clear, I graduated on my own. (My brothers best friend helped me with math.) I got sober because I wanted peace. (I was ruining my life trying to make myself something you could be proud of.) I bought a house because I could finally move on. (What was the use of staying in place crowded with trauma?) I made ends meet for my kids. I made it work because I had to, And I did it without you. You broke me first. My first heart break came from the very soul that built my heart. But there is nothing inside of me that resembles you. You broke me because you could, and I fixed it because I had to. Thank you, For absolutely nothing at all.

I find myself laying in the middle of an isolated red rock that’s floating in nothing but darkness. I leap to my feet, searching for him. “Come out!” I shout. “Where are you?!” Out of the darknees emerges a pair of immense, red eyes, piercing through the darkness. Then descending is a figure dressed in shadow, white hair and yellow fangs. A void in the center of it’s chest. It speaks, "You summoned me?" "You were supposed to save her!" I scream. "I wasn’t supposed to do anything." "You were meant to save her! I asked you to save her!" "I don’t do what you ask," It’s voice is laced with anger. "You do what I asks!" "Why did you lie to me?!" I scream, my voice echoing through the vast nothingness. "Why did you lie?" "Do you not realize who I am? You idiot!" it retorts. "Why would I ever be honest with you? I have no reason to be honest, just as you have no reason to yell at it for something you did! You made a deal with me, not the other way around." Overwhelmed, I fall to my knees. "Do I still die? I asked you to kill me, not her. Do I still die?" "No." It replies coldly. "Please!" I beg. "No!" "Please!" I cry out. The rock I'm on shakes suddenly, and I nearly fall off the edge. I almost feel relieved but I’m swiftly lifted back up. "Don't save me!" "When will you learn? This is life. You don't get any free chances! You don't get to die for free!” I can't hold back my sobs. “Thank you. For nothing!”

Dear mom, I really hope you’re doing well. I really hope you know you put us kids through hell. That first line is a lie and I hope you can tell. I don’t think you ever really tried to get well. I remember going door to door to ask for food. Do you not realize asking a child to do that is fucking crude? Cashing out the food stamps just to snort your pills? Signed me out of sophomore year to ‘help’ you pay the fucking bills? The lights are cut off again, but hey, at least you got your thrills. The twins are playing in their shit again. They’ve been up all night, while you were steady snoring. Kinda hard to stay awake when you’re zombified from those narcotics? Honestly, I forgave you before you really apologized. If you aren’t sorry - you don’t deserve mercy. That’s a lesson that I have learned from life. If you were sorry, you’d wake up and fucking see the light. Or just keep lying to yourself And later pay the price. It’d be nice for him to have a grandma. 6 years later… I wonder if you even know his name. I really hope that that thought brings you immense shame. Maybe having that pain would be enough to make you change. I love you, but I won’t forgive you until you try to do better. If I do, I’d be pretending, and that won’t make things better. I know I’ll probably never send this letter. But I needed to write it down so I could heal better. Thank you, For nothing. Nothing made me strong.

I have only two things I hate in this world. Pineapples on pizza, and negative people. Unfortunately for me, the heavens decided to punish me for an unknown sin, by sending Satans spawn down to earth and into my office. Did I say Satans spawn? I meant Daniel. The only way I can describe him is a walking, talking news channel, blasting all but the worst terror going on in the world. If he talks about taxes one more time I swear he won’t be alive to file them! Today is going to be even more dreadful than the rest since we’ll both be staying overnight working on the pitch for Crappy’s Chocolates. Yep, that’s the name of the business and why we’ll need to spend extra time on it. The name explains the product pretty well too. I throw my handbag that’s way to small and way to heavy on my desk. I let my limbs go limp, and fall back into my chair which rolls and bumps into the wall. “Making a commotion already?” I look up to find none other than Satans little spawn. “Not now Daniel” I say, massaging my temples and dragging my chair back to the desk. “Ah” he says, neatly placing his jacket on his chair and sitting across the room on his desk. “Mentally preparing yourself for defeat?” I rack my brain trying to remember what on earth he can be referring to. “Crappy’s Chocolates pitch?” “Yep.” “I don’t care if your pitch gets chosen. I wouldn’t want Crappy chocolates as my big break.” He surprisingly laughs, shaking his head while reclining on his chair. “You really don’t pay attention when I talk.” “Why would I?” My brows quirk upwards, but my gaze shifts to my very old and very slow computer that chooses to be a burden today. “Because” he sighs. “Then you would know that whoever gets picked also gets chosen to open for all new spring luxury brands.” I slam my computer down, blinking rapidly. “Excuse me?” That is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. One small company presentation for a chocolate brand named Crappy’s will determine who gets to represent our most importantly clients? “That is absolutely ridiculous.” “It is” he agrees for once. “I sense Lopez is trying to create tension in the office. He’s doing the same with graphics and web.” “Why would he do that?” His lips curl up, and I already know the answer. Because Lopez is cruel. He likes fighting. I remember the first fight I had with Daniel in the cafe when he blatantly called pigs delicious in front of a girl who’s pet pig just died. We were close to ripping out each other’s throats, and Lopez sat in delight, occasionally feeding the fire with snide remarks. Daniel loves this about him, I added him to my list of unfavorable people, right bellow Daniel. We go back to working, and the hours tick by so quick I don’t even notice when the sky has grown dark and the building has emptied. It’s only me, Daniel, the two men from graphics, and the two women from web, each in different floors wanting to rip out their coworkers throats. Every here and there Daniel makes a discouraging comment, or tells me about the child labor behind chocolate and cocoa picking. I focus on getting work done. “Are you hungry?” He asks to my surprise, pulling his phone out of his briefcase. “Yes” I say in a whisper, lost in thought. What is he going to say next, to bad? “I’ll order pizza.” My brows furrow in suspicion, and he notices. “If you want.” “Yes” I say again almost to quickly. The hunger of only eating breakfast catches up to me, and I wonder if the iceman has melted a little. He orders the pizza on his phone, and we go back to silence. My presentation is going well, but I worry while presenting I won’t contain my laughter when I have to say, ‘gooey and chewy Crappy chocolates.” Daniel goes downstairs and picks up the pizza, bringing it back up to the office. My stomach churns in delight, but I try not to express my eagerness to much. “Tha-“ before I finish my sentence, he opens the pizza box. And behold, he ordered a pineapple pizza. “I heard about your infatuation with pineapple pizza” he says, bitting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. I scrunch my nose, closing the pizza box and this time he really does laugh. A laugh I have never heard and equally despise as much as his scowl. “Thank you. For nothing.”