Chapter 2 - Mommy, Please Come Back

<Editorial Note:  Incomplete chapter>

Looking back on things, I can’t really blame her for leaving.  Things at home weren’t very pleasant.  Depending on how much he had to drink, we never really knew what to expect.

My sister and I had to be very careful when we ate dinner.  God forbid we drop a fork.  If he only had a six-pack to drink that night, we would be taunted and laughed at.  If he hit the hard liquor, we were sure to come away with a few bruises or a black eye.  The belt was never far away either.  I can’t tell you how many times I had welts on my bottom from the lashings I received.

Chapter 1 - The Doctor Who Knew

<Editorial Note:  After writing the first chapters in first person, I have decided to go back and re-write it in third person, but have not gotten around to it yet.  I can't get into the mindframe I need to do this from a first person.  It's just not in me.>

It was August 22^nd, 1957.  I didn’t want to be there, I knew it was going to hurt.  I had been sick enough to know that doctors’ offices were not a good place to be.  It seemed like I was there once a month.  This time was a little different, this time I had to go get my immunizations because I had just turned 5 years old.

 The doctors always lie and say it will just “feel like a pinch”.  Yeah, right.  I didn’t want to be there, and my dad knew it.  The doctor came in the room and did his general check-up with me and then he said he would be right back.  I knew where he was going.  He was preparing my shots. 

As a tear rolled down my left cheek, my father looked at me and sternly said, “Stop your crying boy, you ain’t no sissy!”  With that, his fist flew across my face landing on my bottom lip.  As the blood started dripping from my mouth, I knew I had better stop crying or it might end up like all the other times. I sat up straight and mustered all my strength to sit there and be a good boy like Daddy wanted me to.  Or else.

Dr. Turner walked into the room and he looked at me and then turned to look at my father.  He knew what just happened, but he had no proof.  The doctor said to him, “if I find out you ever do anything like that to him again, I will personally call the police.” 

In hindsight, I wish Dr. Turner found out about all the times I had been slapped, punched, and strangled—not to mention all the times I had been mentally abused. 

I was a very sick child, maybe it was due to the abuse I endured from my father.  The anxiety of it all eating away at my mind, making me a prisoner of my own self.  Maybe if Doc did find out, if he did have proof, things would have turned out differently. 

But he didn’t.  I’d have to stand up for myself--one day.

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, to my mother and one of my very best friends for truly understanding why I wrote this book despite the emotions that were dredged up by reliving these moments.  I cannot express my love for you enough and hope that with this now in print, the pain can now be put to rest and a bright new future be put in its place.

To my friends I shut out of my life in the late 80's, early 90's.  I was in a bad place and needed to protect not only myself, but you as well.  


To my children, for just being you.  You will never know how much I love you all and how I hope you never have to endure the pain that I have seen and felt.  You are the reason I live each and every day. 

An Introduction

This site is so that I can write my book about someone from my past.  It's a story that should be written, but is difficult to write.