I was sitting in my bed when my Dad got home, my eyes widened, the worst time of the day was ‘dad just got home o’clock’… it was a bad time of the day. I cursed under my breath and hurried to stand and rush out the room, I couldn’t go down the stairs because they led right in front of the door where he was sanding, so bad idea, I cursed again and my eyes glanced to the window and I couldn’t help but smile at my geniuses.1
I walked quietly over to the window, not wanting to let the floor boards beneath me creak, though I still breathed heavily as I got closer to the window, nervous as hell. When I got to the window I gingerly pushed it open, it cracked slightly, and at any other time I knew the sound would not have bothered me at all, knowing that no one else could have possibly heard it, but at this moment, my nerves shot, it sounded like a bloody thunder storm. My eyes squeezed shut as I pushed it open. 2
Finally when it was open I was about to climb out, pushing myself up on the window ceil when the door crashed open and my Father stumbled in, my eyes were wide and I just froze there, not even being able to blink. I cursed in my head. This was not good, I wanted to run, but I did not move. He stumbled in, almost crashing onto my small bed in front of him.3
“Are you trying to run away from me, Damian?” he slurred the words together, barely being able to say anything coherent at all. 4
I forced myself to speak. “N-no, sir, I wasn’t.” I found that I could barely say anything too, though my reasons a bit different then his.5
“Aye, you’re just sitting half out the window for no bloody reason, eh?” he said and I forced a smile.6
“Yes?” I said unsurely. Bad choice.7
He growled and stepped forward, almost falling, he pulled back his arm and the back off his rough hand hit my face, I was hurled across the room, though I don’t mean for that to seem far fetched … it was a small room. I pushed myself up when another hand hit my face, I spit out the little blood that was acrid in my mouth from my bleeding lips and gums. 8
Oddly he let me stand up before hitting me again, normally he doesn’t do that. Normally he just hits me when I’m down.9
His back hands quickly became knuckles pounding in my face, but they also soon changed to punches in my gut. He held me down by my neck, shoving down hard so that I was slightly bent over as his punches hit me in the gut, I groaned and whimpered, pulling at his grip, but he held me there, punching again and again and again, though I knew when it would end, and the feeling in my stomach told me that would be soon. He punched me again and finally I puked on the floor in front of me, it was just liquid though, I hadn’t had anything all day except water. I could faintly hear him laughing as I gagged and choked, grabbing at me stomach as I puked over and over again, tears streaming down my face, though I wasn’t sure if they were there because I was in pain or because my father was causing the pain, I never relied on either answer.10
I felt a thick, heavy hand on my back, my knees gave out as he shoved me down, pushing me down into my own regurgitation, he laughed lowly and drunkenly to himself as he shoved my head down into the fluid before he left, shutting the door behind him. 11
I pushed myself up, still crying, I hated crying, it made me feel weak and helpless and I hated that feeling. 12
I pulled off my shirt gingerly and whipped up the liquid with it since it was already soaked with puke, there wasn’t much left to wipe up since him shoving me into it kind of did the job. I stripped my pants off and climbed out of the window, down the side of the house and behind it where the lake was, I stepped in, it was freezing, I wished it in vain that is wasn’t October, not that is mattered. Eventually I was chest deep in the frigid water. My teeth chattered and goose bumps sprung up all over my body as I washed the smell of the vomit off of my body.13
After several minutes of bathing, if you could call it that, I walked out and up the gutter on the side of the wall in not but my under breaches on. I was freezing, I could barely make it up the wall, for a few seconds I actually thought I wasn’t going to make it up the wall, but thankfully I made it to the window and climbed in, pulling off my under breaches as well since they were soaking wet and climbed into my bed, pulling the covers over my shoulder… and cried…. 14
This was my punishment for being born. 15
Author notes
I don't want any criticism on this, nothing you can change by telling my what should have happened... beleive me, the serntence 'what should have happened...' has went threw my head all my life.
A contest entry
- Real Life Situation II by GrimDeath.
300 points, ended May 30, 2008, 21 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
This is my first story on here and I just need to know what you think.
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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You have a way with words. I felt like I was there...You are a good writer.
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I love the part where you describe "Dad Just Got Home O'Clock" because I connect with that. This story flows evenly from beginning to middle and end, the whole time, keeping the reader captive because they feel for you and want to know how things turn out for you from the very start. You have a great gift, being able to relate such difficult subjects in such a profound, emotional, yet touching way. I'm a big believer that writing can set free your emotions and thoughts that the mind won't let you speak aloud. Otherwise, everything will stay trapped inside you. You are brilliant.
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Jesus...
I hate when I hear things like this happening to people, If I could I'd go right up to some of these people and beat em;' black and blue! (although...that probably wouldn't work as I'm only average size).
I am not going to comment on what was said in the comments , but people really should read EVERYTHING before they go and comment...not insult the work even if it was only meant as critisizm.
Well writen.
Cheers Damian.
Hunter
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aye, their kinda of khaki like that I geuss.
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Holy...
Poor you, guy!
This is such a common stupd problem!!! God, it gets me frustrated when parents take out their inner itches on their kids.
As for the whole DQ bit, Damian...no comment. Guess some people walk around in rose-colored glasses. I don't see why this couldn't have happened.
Tiger-Lily/HT -
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Tiger-Lily
I dont wear glasses some people might not know he should have put it happened in real life -
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I said it was personal, and I put it in YOUR contest for real life punishment... you do the math, mate.
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Aye, it happens alot In the states from waht I here, it really doesn't happen here that much.
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Awwwwwwww!!!! =( It's totally sad!
Meh don't listen to her. She doesn't beleive it. She's totally oblivious to the real world. You wrote it well, and I loved the way you said.
I was hurled across the room, though I don’t mean for that to seem far fetched … it was a small room.
that was a good sentence!
ANyway...good job! keep writin!
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Heehee, thanks, that was my favorite sentence too
yupi she's definitely a khak head...
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Swords of Ireland
i'm not a khak head you dickfore -
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How are you too know... I doubt you know what it means.
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your are ignorat i said it had to be real life like it happened to YOU not someone else or some made up thing your DQ
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Oi, this is a true story, aye, thanks for reading the authors note... very generous of you... very generous indeed. it did happen to me, I had to go through that every fucking day, don't tell me it didn't happen!
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Swords of Ireland
Well you should have said part of my life cause not many people could know what it ment -
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I did tell you, in the authors note, it says such in so many words.
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Its wonderfully written full of detail and descriptions. Its very emotional. I would say more but I m verymoved by the piece am not sure what to say. Thank you for entering and Good Luck.
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Thank you. it was hard to write this one, but every time I write one its like a weight off my shoulders. thanks for giving me the chance to put this in.
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