The Picture on the Wall

For many years after I left back home to start my own family the picture hung on the wall. At my parents and at my Grandmother's. She was so proud of me. Only I knew the truth. The truth behind that sad stare. Those eyes were begging for help. If only someone knew what was happening to me. I graduated that year and went my way. Finally I stopped looking over my shoulder in fear someone would find out. Someone who might be hurt by my truth. Today I have one of those pictures. My mom gave it to us after my grandmother died. It sits in a drawer in my dining room. I like to pull it out and look at it. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I sob. Sometimes I just hurt. I showed it to my counselor today. I laid it on the couch beside me. I looked at that child. I knew the hurt in her eyes. Its my hurt. Nobody cared, but then they didn't know either. I still look over my shoulder in fear of what the truth would do to those who the truth would hurt.