| Biographical Non-Fiction posted November 10, 2023 | Chapters: |
...54 55 -56- 57... 
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The final straw. Age 16
A chapter in the book Ghost
The Fury P1
by Lea Tonin1
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
*****************************
SUBLIME
TWISTED SNARL RED
SPARE THE BEAUTY SHE BINDS
THE NIGHTMARE
IN HER JEALOUS BED
DIVINE
***Lea Tonin***
*****************************
Once again I sit and ponder these next words. To do it justice, I must again provide enough emotion from the time and yet not be emotionally involved. A difficult and tricky endeavor as it's an impossible task.
Memory crosses the front of my mind like splashes on a clean canvas. The scene is playing out in fast forward as they happened one reel at a time.
I feel my heart picking up speed, perspiration forms on my upper lip. I pace the floor eyeballing my PC while it wisely shows me a blank expression.
This was the crux of the journey I must write about. Shall I go left or shall I go right?
I know where straight leads me. More of the same. I already feel the memory of what's left behind.
The crossroads of my life where all directions conceal land mines.
Pros and cons...always in the way.
*****************************
He pushed me through the front door and I fell down onto the steps. I rose to my feet and ran up the stairs into the living room I'd just cleaned.
Mother sitting there with a "what now" expression on her face.
My stepfather took off his boots, hung up his jacket and then came up into the living room. He sat down in his chair, picked up his newspaper and then looked at me.
He'd just shoved me onto the stairs. Stopped me from going. I was there in the living room trying not to quake wondering what the hell was going on. "Mom gave me permission!" I blurted out desperately.
"Well, your father's home now. He can decide that." Mother replied.
"Spineless woman. Always letting me down." I thought.
"What shoes were you wearing." he asked.
"My sisters flip flops."
I knew in that moment if I didn't get some separation from this man, I was going to explode. The fury in me was pushing on every door I had.
"I told you to dry out those runners. didn't I?" Looking at me. "Then you threw them out didn't you?" More of a statement rather then a question.
"Yes." I said.
"What did I say after that? He questioned.
"To find a way to replace them myself." I replied.
I was jumping on a trampoline...the rage causing me to bounce around inside myself.
"Then who's godamn shoes are those?!" He shouted.
"My sisters flip flops." I repeated.
"Exactly." he said angrily. "But you just do your own godamn thing don't you?" His voice rose. "Did you do anything to earn a new pair? What the hell did you do all day?"
That was it! I fucken snapped! I fucken lost it! I freaked out! I was spinning like a mexican top! "What? You can't see around you?! Are you that old you can't see?! ABSOLUTELY FUCKEN NOTHING!!! That's what I did today! NOTHING!!!" He just stared at me while I struggled with my anger. " I suppose since I've done nothing today, I'll have to go to bed without supper. Is that right!? Then you'll be down later?! Is that it?! Fine then!! I stalked off with clenched fists. Down the stairs I barreled into my room slammed the door and boiled with rage. I listened for the sounds of the floor and the sounds of the steps that would tell me he was coming.
Only two sounds I heard... The laughter of a man and the soft chatter of a woman.
***
Someone touched my shoulder. I shook off the hand that touched me, flew back against the head board with a startled look in my eyes then focused on my mother.
"Come upstairs and get some supper." She said.
I could already smell the burnt onions. My mother had this idea that burnt onions, macaroni noodles and Cheeze Wiz was a gourmet dinner.
I didn't care I just wanted to eat. I could have done without the burnt onions but, beggars can't be choosers. I followed her upstairs into the dining room and sat down at the table.
Of course there he sat with his ever-present newspaper pulling his hair over his bald spot. Isn't it funny, the older they get the closer to their ear their part becomes.
Without looking up from his newspaper, he said, "If you ever speak to me that way again, I'll thump you twice as hard. Do you understand?" Then he looked at me for my response.
This was really bad timing on his part. Since I'd already lost it once today. I was ever close to losing it again.
Gritting my teeth I replied, " I have done nothing wrong. I did everything you asked me to do today. Then I did extra chores and you wanna focus on how I talk to you?" THUMP! CRASH!
Lights out....
************************
That old age that was so familiar to me rose up within me while I wrote. It never really goes away, you see, it just changes forms over time. As if to say, "Ha ha, you thought I was gone didn't you? Well I've been here the whole time."
That old anger is a bit frightened though. I found the antidote. I'm sitting in front of it right now. My PC, my mind and my proverbial pen.
STRIKE!!
*****************************
SUBLIME
TWISTED SNARL RED
SPARE THE BEAUTY SHE BINDS
THE NIGHTMARE
IN HER JEALOUS BED
DIVINE
***Lea Tonin***
*****************************
Once again I sit and ponder these next words. To do it justice, I must again provide enough emotion from the time and yet not be emotionally involved. A difficult and tricky endeavor as it's an impossible task.
Memory crosses the front of my mind like splashes on a clean canvas. The scene is playing out in fast forward as they happened one reel at a time.
I feel my heart picking up speed, perspiration forms on my upper lip. I pace the floor eyeballing my PC while it wisely shows me a blank expression.
This was the crux of the journey I must write about. Shall I go left or shall I go right?
I know where straight leads me. More of the same. I already feel the memory of what's left behind.
The crossroads of my life where all directions conceal land mines.
Pros and cons...always in the way.
*****************************
He pushed me through the front door and I fell down onto the steps. I rose to my feet and ran up the stairs into the living room I'd just cleaned.
Mother sitting there with a "what now" expression on her face.
My stepfather took off his boots, hung up his jacket and then came up into the living room. He sat down in his chair, picked up his newspaper and then looked at me.
He'd just shoved me onto the stairs. Stopped me from going. I was there in the living room trying not to quake wondering what the hell was going on. "Mom gave me permission!" I blurted out desperately.
"Well, your father's home now. He can decide that." Mother replied.
"Spineless woman. Always letting me down." I thought.
"What shoes were you wearing." he asked.
"My sisters flip flops."
I knew in that moment if I didn't get some separation from this man, I was going to explode. The fury in me was pushing on every door I had.
"I told you to dry out those runners. didn't I?" Looking at me. "Then you threw them out didn't you?" More of a statement rather then a question.
"Yes." I said.
"What did I say after that? He questioned.
"To find a way to replace them myself." I replied.
I was jumping on a trampoline...the rage causing me to bounce around inside myself.
"Then who's godamn shoes are those?!" He shouted.
"My sisters flip flops." I repeated.
"Exactly." he said angrily. "But you just do your own godamn thing don't you?" His voice rose. "Did you do anything to earn a new pair? What the hell did you do all day?"
That was it! I fucken snapped! I fucken lost it! I freaked out! I was spinning like a mexican top! "What? You can't see around you?! Are you that old you can't see?! ABSOLUTELY FUCKEN NOTHING!!! That's what I did today! NOTHING!!!" He just stared at me while I struggled with my anger. " I suppose since I've done nothing today, I'll have to go to bed without supper. Is that right!? Then you'll be down later?! Is that it?! Fine then!! I stalked off with clenched fists. Down the stairs I barreled into my room slammed the door and boiled with rage. I listened for the sounds of the floor and the sounds of the steps that would tell me he was coming.
Only two sounds I heard... The laughter of a man and the soft chatter of a woman.
***
Someone touched my shoulder. I shook off the hand that touched me, flew back against the head board with a startled look in my eyes then focused on my mother.
"Come upstairs and get some supper." She said.
I could already smell the burnt onions. My mother had this idea that burnt onions, macaroni noodles and Cheeze Wiz was a gourmet dinner.
I didn't care I just wanted to eat. I could have done without the burnt onions but, beggars can't be choosers. I followed her upstairs into the dining room and sat down at the table.
Of course there he sat with his ever-present newspaper pulling his hair over his bald spot. Isn't it funny, the older they get the closer to their ear their part becomes.
Without looking up from his newspaper, he said, "If you ever speak to me that way again, I'll thump you twice as hard. Do you understand?" Then he looked at me for my response.
This was really bad timing on his part. Since I'd already lost it once today. I was ever close to losing it again.
Gritting my teeth I replied, " I have done nothing wrong. I did everything you asked me to do today. Then I did extra chores and you wanna focus on how I talk to you?" THUMP! CRASH!
Lights out....
************************
That old age that was so familiar to me rose up within me while I wrote. It never really goes away, you see, it just changes forms over time. As if to say, "Ha ha, you thought I was gone didn't you? Well I've been here the whole time."
That old anger is a bit frightened though. I found the antidote. I'm sitting in front of it right now. My PC, my mind and my proverbial pen.
STRIKE!!
 Recognized |
This chapter is part of a auto bio that can be found in my portfolio. Feel free to read if you wish with one word of caution. Some chapters are difficult to digest Reader discretion is advised.
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