Sabotage in my Head.

I wanted to sit at home and just do nothing, but I knew if dad came home while I was snoozing off on his sofa, he would be pissed. So in stead of doing what I felt like doing, I reminded myself that I needed to do the dishes, and that if I didn’t, he would be angry at me. So I did them in silence.1

Dad wasn’t home all that much, some days he never even came home at all. Basically I lived by myself, or sometimes my older brother Syle would drop in. Sometimes.2

Syle was 18 and three years older then me, handsomer then me too. I hated how I looked; skinny and wide eyed and ash haired. I hated it. Syle was tall and golden haired, not unlike my mother’s hair was rumored to be. He was green eyed with a charming grin and a barrel chest. He was handsome to any girl, lady or woman of any stature. I wasn’t, and I hated that. Not because I wanted girls to be attracted to me really, I just hated that he was better then me, and that no matter what I did, he always would be. Everyone told me that, even him, even my father, which is strange, because he doesn’t really give a rat’s ass about either of us. But at least Syle has friends that care about him. I hang with guys at school, but they wouldn’t notice if I was there one day and gone the next.3

Blegh, that brings us to me.4

I don’t really hate me, I guess, I just don’t like me. I always find stuff wrong with me; the way I look, the way I smile, the way I laugh, the way I talk, the way I get dressed even. Always thinking that there has to be a reason no one likes me. Maybe it’s because I don’t smile enough, because I really don’t smile at all. But then I convince myself that that’s not it at all, because that would be horribly silly of someone to not like someone because they don’t smile enough--- of course right after that I try smiling more than I normally do and it just damn out makes my cheeks hurt.5

My dad never smiles, so why should I? But hell, I don’t want to be like my dad, I want to be like Syle, and he smiles all the time. He’s a serious man but he does get in some smiling with that serious face, and the girls always loved him.6

He always made me miss my first class because of all the girls. He’d have one or two of them over and forget about me and either sleep in and make me walk or go to early and still make me walk. Either way I got in trouble at school.7

Thinking about this, I lost track of time and before I knew it, the door was open and dad came walking slow through the living room and down to my room. Course I wasn’t in there, I was cleaning the kitchen, but he always checks my room because sometimes he catches me sleeping or reading and he don’t like that.8

“Oh, you’re in here.” He said and I nodded slow. “What’chu doing?”9

“Um… just cleaning… I thought that maybe…”10

“Did you mow the lawn?” he asked, cutting me off.11

“Well… no, I forgot but…”12

“You forgot? You forget every fucking day huh?” he said calmly and I knew that I was going to get in trouble. “You know what?” he said, scrunching up his face to one side in mock thought. “I think you forget too much.” He said, nodding to himself as he made his slow approach toward me.13

Shit, shit, shit, shit.14

“And I hate that I keep hearing ‘oh daddy, I forgot, yeah I forgot. I FUCKING FORGOT!’” he screamed at me, grabbing my shirt. 15

I knew I was whimpering like crazy, but I couldn’t help it, I was too scared to do much else. I hated that I was scared of him, but he was just so--- I don’t know, just had something about him that sent me up.16

“Fine, boy, than I will give you something you ain’t never gonna forget!” he said between his teeth and for a split second, I thought that what he said was really cliché, but I stopped that nonsense thinking when he slammed me up against the wall.17

I could hear him grunt when he had to move awkwardly to unbuckle and slide out his belt. And even though this happened a lot, every single time, I got the feeling he was just going to molest me right then and there, every single time, but of course he never did. Which I was glad of. 18

The belt came out quicker than I would of liked, I waited for the buckle to his the ground, but it never did.19

“D-Dad?” I stammered against the wall, my face smashed up against the hard plaster.20

“Time I taught you a lesson about remembering.” he said the last word ‘remembering’ with a sharp off note to his voice.21

“Shit.” I hissed under my breath, and squished against the wall, I knew he wouldn’t hear it. “D-Dad what are you…” 22

Whap!23

The snap of the belt against my skin cut me off, but just what I was saying, not my voice, no, not my voice, because I screamed louder than I ever had before. This wasn’t like how I normally got it. Now I knew why I didn’t hear the belt buckle hit the ground.24

“Dad p-please stop!”25

Whap! It snapped against my back. I could feel blood hot on my skin, or at least I think I could, maybe it was just the welt swelling up on my skin. But then I felt something trickle down my back.26

“You learning yet?” he shouted, grabbing my hair and slamming my head against the wall. “Don’t…” the belt buckle snapped against my skin again, “…ever…” whap, it slapped, I could hear the buckle make a meaty sound against my back, “…forget again!” the buckle smacked against my ribs and my knees buckled. I couldn’t do this anymore, if he hit me one more time with that belt I knew I would fall right then and there and never get back up again. But that’s what he did, I was hoping that after a while, I would stop feeling it. Like they always say in the books, that you stop feeling the pain after a while, but once again, my novels failed me, and I felt every single snap of his belt and every thud of the buckle smacking against my raw flesh.27

Then I dropped.28

His arm left its former brace at the back of my neck and I toppled. Like a humble knight off his worn steed. Except I had no steed and I was no knight. 29

I was just a broken bag of nothingness on a cold floor. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want anyone to move me and I never wanted to get up again. I wanted to die and hoped God understand and maybe would take my life and give what was left to some dying kid in a hospital. 30

But he didn’t.31