Regrets
By Lone Heron

I find it ironic that the one person we tortured the most in this society has been the one we have chosen to honor the most.

What would Jesus do? has been a common theme going around for some time.
Yet at crucial moments we forget all about Jesus. I often wonder are parricide victims another form of Jesus that just couldn’t complete the task because their abusers did not kill them soon enough? Parricide children become scape goats that the whole community blames- is that not the same thing with a twist that happened to Jesus? It looks very similar to me.

Jesus gave his life attempting to teach a better way. He was torn to pieces by it. The christians all say he will return and there will be judgement day- will that day find those enslaved trading places with those who are free? If what goes around comes around, despite all of man’s laws how will those passing judgment be judged? Will they be judged as they have judged? It happened to the Nazis so why would anybody think it would be any different for those communities who do not assist the children doomed to play the role of destiny, doomed to be the only true victims of parricide.

How can I say that you ask? Because the Jacob Inds and others like him lose everything, while their torturers are given the peace of death, while society is provided with gossip and legal systems make money, the children are left to battle mental and emotional wars that unlike the beatings take years to stop hurting, if they ever truly do. They say time heals all wounds. They say a man cannot say he has lived until he has regrets. If that is true than the children of parricide have lived more than most as their regrets I believe are more than most.

Here are just a of my regrets:
– I regret that I couldn’t find another way.
– I regret that my mother beat me till I couldn’t walk but I still didn’t understand why.
– I regret when I tried to get help I was told not to exaggerate it wasn’t that bad.
– I regret that when my mother hit me in front of others they turned a blind eye.
– I regret watching both of my parents have affairs on one another.
– I regret the concussion mother gave me banging my head into a metal pole until my vision lost
color and the world went black and white the day she died-
– I regret having grandparents who would not help because their son “should never have married
that divorcee hussie with her bastard child.”
– I regret that my grandmother married a man who hit her and I can’t hit him back without having
an assault charge slapped on my ass!
– I regret I live in a society that lacks respect consideration and caring and most of all courage!
– I regret that I wasn’t strong enough to stop my parents from hurting me without killing them.

But I do not regret making the most out of what I was given and I do not regret the person I have become and I will never regret doing everything I can to stop anyone from hurting me or another in my presence.
I could fill a book with regrets but what good would it do? Yesterday is gone and cannot be changed, but tomorrow is a different story! Tomorrow I will do things differently because now I am an adult and I no longer have to regret, I have another choice, I can be thankful!
Thankful -because no-one beats me anymore. I can be thankful because any regrets I have in the future will not be the same ones I had in the past. Time does heal wounds- but it takes so much longer to heal the scars.

Perhaps my greatest regret would be the subtle scars I carry on my face. One at the edge of my eyebrow and another on my lip -They are memories that will never let me forget how violent my mother could be. Scars that will never disappear. They will be there till the day I die, reminding me every time I look in the mirror or run my tongue along the inside of my lip.

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