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I see my father

I was in fourth grade.  The four kids are almost in my mother’s car and ready to go to school.  I run back inside the house because I forgot my coat and it was a cold day.  I run through the front door and down the hall to my bedroom door.  My father thinks we … Continue reading

Brian gets hurt, again

Yes, it was on my watch.  This was about one year after the iron icident.  It was summer.  Brian and Hannah were outside playing and my mother told me to watch them.  I was watching them and resenting every second having to sit there and just watch them play.  Brian was on his little tricycle. … Continue reading

I don’t eat fish or seafood

My mother would cook fish every Friday because that’s what good Catholics do.  Maybe she thought if she followed these rules it would ensure her entrance into heaven.  We ate fish every Friday which was fine.  Except I grew to hate filet of sole and that’s what she made for the kids.  She would prepare … Continue reading

Because he felt like it

My father would often beat John just because he felt like it. There was no rhyme or reason for it.  My father took out his rage on John and he did it often.  John did not do anything in particular at that moment in time.  Except maybe breathe.  John’s breathing probably did upset my father. … Continue reading

on hating hair brushes

I have kept the stories from my short story out of my blog to keep them separate.  I am almost done with my short story and plan to publish it soon.  However, I thought I’d mention why I hate hair brushes here. My mother used to love to hit me with hair brushes.  It seemed … Continue reading

Why?

I was in my bedroom minding my own business in the late afternoon playing with my stuffed animals.  My mother came in and pulled me off my bed by my hair and dragged me into the kitchen and forcefully pushed me into a chair at the kitchen table.  She was ranting about her missing lipstick.  I … Continue reading

Who hated Kindergarten?

I did. I had waited what seemed like many long years to start school.  I would watch my brother go off to school and I would be left behind.  I plagued my mother with questions of when could I start school.  Finally I was able to start Kindergarten and it started out well.  But as … Continue reading

Fear of cars begins

My mother was a heavy smoker.  It was kind of gross.  The house smelled like cigarette smoke and there were cigarette butts stuffed everywhere.  My mother always smelled of smoke.  My father also smoked and always smelled this way as well.  Their bedroom was a haze of smoke.  My mother had to supply their habit … Continue reading

Hiding

I broke something.  I do not remember now what it was I broke.  It scared me because I broke something my parents cared about.  I knew I was in trouble.  It was a Sunday afternoon.  Both my parents were home.  I was so scared I bolted out of the house.  I went to the neighbor’s … Continue reading