Scream until there's nothing left703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6sqJVheZi6
So sick of playing; I don't want to anymore703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuIXQPfjVfc
The thought of you's no freaking fun,703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP7iD9m0Gh2
You want a martyr I'll be one703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoTNI51F17f
Because enough's enough, we're done
-Pierce the Veil, 'King for A Day'
_______________________________________________________________________
Max is eight years old. It would make sense that, often times, he is loud and needy and still learning of how to properly approach new experiences being thrown in front of him. Even so I acknowledge this fact of young, loud, needy children trying to find themselves, I, often times, still would like to tear his head off of his body.
"Chrissie, Chrissie, Chriss-ah, Chriss-iss-issy! chrriiissssssssssssssie!"
Like right now. Right in this very moment would be a great time for his head to lie disembodied at my feet. But I restrain myself; Think of the court trials...
"MAX!"
He looks at me with innocent eyes, as if I have done something horrid to him. Although I am thinking it, I have not hurt him yet. His puppy dog eyes are not, and will never, work on me. I can't wait until he's a few years older, because then nasty sarcasm will be acceptable to use with him. Not yet, I remind myself, He is too young for you to insult him directly.
So rather, I reply, "Max, I need my alone time. Just like you and mommy and Jason do sometimes. Please"
And, I swear, by god, this little pest looks at me and smile the smile of Satan himself. He shakes his head and sticks out his tongue and continues to call my name until I stand up and walk over to him slowly. Menacingly, I glare down on him, using my height advantage to intimidate the child. I am short, but I am bigger than him for now, and he knows I could hurt him. So he runs away.
I wasn't actually going to do anything, of course. The trick is to puff out your chest and lower your shoulders and glint your eyes like a madman. The young boy thought I was intending to hurt him, but no, just to make him stop. I would never touch him, and he knows that. Still, each and every time, he never fails to run away from me. It is not a question of whether or not I would ever hurt him, it is only the realization that it could if I wanted to.
Jason does not know this. He does not understand my Threatening Walk, as I call it.
I can hear his footsteps before he enter the room, wild and angry. He does not even hesitate, as he walks up to me, lifting his hand. Lowering his hand quickly, he gives me a slap along the side of my face and sends me reeling a bit to the side. My face is stinging and my mind is disoriented, so it is difficult to make out his words when he decides to speak and not hit.
"...and I just felt it was right for you to understand what it feels like. You can't just go around hitting children, or people that are smaller than you. You'll break his trust, you know, how is he supposed to trust you when all you do is scare him and hurt him, Chris?"
I do not respond, fuming. Instead, I walk away. I walk until my feet have reached the door to my bedroom, and I slam the door loudly behind me. I rub my face, the sore skin still stinging, and I surprise myself by not crying. I don't even have a panic attack, which I have been having quite frequently lately. I am fire, coursing through my chest and my heart, up to my brain, and finally into my limbs, so that my entire body is succumbed in angry hell fire. I can't believe he talked ot me about trust, after that stunt he pulled. Act first, never talk, never think, never question his dearest Max. It's Chris' fault, mostly, because I'm older and I should 'know better' than to lay a finger on his precious Max.
And the best part is, I hadn't even touched him. But no one wants my side of the story. Especially not Jason.
"Christine, open the door now. I need to talk to you, this is out of control." 703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8YwkygDp5f
My mother, what a joy. I respond with,
"You don't know what happened. I didn't touch him."
"And I believe you. Open the door."
I do so much, but open that much. I unlock the door, and allow my mother to open it for herself. she sits down next to me on my bed, but she does not touch me, or even look at me. 703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqRCq55tsf9
"I know he acted quickly, but you can't blame him. Max is little, and he was scared..."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJepMPNCtBA
"I don't care about Max. He's a rancid pest, but his father his worse. Jason didn't even look at me when he hit me; He didn't even talk to me to hear my side."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkLKRZynLS2
She thought for a second, obviously she hadn't heard my side either. She heard the spun-up tale of big bad Chris and my decision to walk away without responding after brutally terrorizing my family. 703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqSMH5Adevm
"I know you're going to hate me, but you have to accept them as your family, Chris. You have to move on. Jason is doing his best with...all of this."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHW0QzWz6Xb
"You're changing the subject."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI5rV7KSpvv
"No, I'm not. I'm getting the bottom line subject."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV4Cq3T6KQf
"Okay, well, they're not my family."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUy6tiZuBK5
Ouch, bad move Chris. The second the words left my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. I knew this would cause an all out war with my level-headed mother, which was not something often seen. This would be a nightmare. Why couldn't I just hold my tongue sometimes?
"Christine, that is completely and utterly unacceptable and I will not allow you to speak like that. Family does not end with blood."
"No, mom, it doesn't, it ends with hitting people you don't like because your lying son told you to."
Here we go...703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4dzDeoaqfS
"I didn't raise you to be like this, Christine!"
"Yes, yes you did. You literally raised me and look at me, because this is all you're going to get!"
"You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do. Jason will never be my father, I don't care what he does."
"You need to move on Christine. It's what your father would have wanted."
I scoffed at that, rolling my eyes so far into my head I thought I'd lose them up there. My father would not have wanted me to move on, he really wouldn't. What my father would have wanted was not to die. Since my mother is still convinced of a suicide, and it was not a suicide, I play along to please her.
"No, this is nothing like what he'd wanted. You're broken, I'm broken, he's dead, and a new 'family' won't change anything. You have no idea what he'd want."703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCpfUpbZ7gB
Now, what really surprised me was that she did not lash out or scream or even cry at that moment. I sat, waiting for her response, for nearly five minutes, before she looked up to me again. By then, the fire in my body was out, left by chilling cold and timid goosebumps growing on my skin. She did not respond with heated anger or breaking sadness, no. What she responded with was a million times worse. She responded with the truth.
"I do know what he'd want, Chris..."
"Do you now...?"
She looked at me, with a look of emptiness immersing her eyes that once held such joy, but now held absolutely nothing.
"I do...Chris..."
Her voice was barely a whisper now, shriveled and defeated.
"Chris...Your father left a note..."
And I broke.
703Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK6iVZF81BB
