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Childhood Memories Chpt. 1
It was dark and I couldn’t see a thing where I was. There was only the smell of clothes that had been in there forever and the boxes of years worth of items stashed at my feet and behind my back. My heart was racing as I listened for any sound at all: footsteps, breathing, a floorboard creaking under his feet. I couldn’t see a thing where I was and I made no attempt to turn on a light. I was too scared to move. I just hoped that he wouldn’t find me or look where I leapt to hide at the last moment.
I heard him stomp by, tensing. So many thoughts ran through my mind. If he found me what was I gonna do? Run? Fight back? Fall down and cry like a little baby? Any one of those would just piss him off more, and so would standing there. He was incredibly unpredictable… that’s why dad depended on him to set me straight. Dad never tried to stop him, no matter what he did or threatened to do.
I hated them all so much. I wanted them to die the most horrible death I could think of. I was such a horrible child… I must’ve done something really bad to deserve all that I got. I’ll never know what I did to screw up so much. I had a lot of time to think about it while they sat me in my room and starved me. I’m lucky I had a bathroom in there so I could still get water.
I was quickly cast out of my thoughts when---
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“There you are!” the old man screamed, pointing at the boy now cowering in complete and paralyzing fear in the closet. “You god damned little brat, running away from me like that,” he snarled reaching down and roughly grabbing the boy by the arm, yanking him up so hard he let out a yelp. This only angered the man more as he threw the boy down onto the floor, making him hit the bed behind.
“Please!” the child screamed, crying and shaking now, further frustrating the old man. He looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. “I’ll be good!” he cried, screaming again when the man jerked him up, throwing him on the bed and leaning down right over him. “Shut up!” he yelled, an ear flipping back when he heard someone at the bedroom door.
“Ray, just fucking chill out,” the boy’s father poked his head in, an emotionless expression on his face. “Take it and get over it. You shouldn’t have done that to your mother,” he said, casting a glance to his own father, who looked back at him with a glare that said ‘’git’.
Ray shut his eyes tight, folding his ears back and just hoping his grandfather would quickly beat him so he could limp back to the closet to hide. It was the only place in this house he felt safe, because that was the only place they couldn’t… He felt a hard slap hit his nose and snout and he bit a chunk out of his lip, simply whimpering at the man now.
The phone suddenly rang, making the boy jump like he’d been shot. His grandpa just held him down tighter, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling on it hard so it ripped half way down. Ray hated the feel of tears wetting his face. It made him feel weak, like he had no control over his own life. Which… in fact he really didn’t.
A feminine voice came to their ears as Ray’s mother stepped into the room with the phone in hand. “Mariline needs you to come home, dear,” she said in a sweet, soft voice. The old man snarled, letting go of Ray and dropping the rag in his hand. He bowed up at Ray as he tried crawling away, making him jump and fall off the other side of the bed. He didn’t mind though since now he could crawl under the bed and wait for everyone to leave the room. He didn’t hear what else was said, all he knew was that gramps was seriously fuming and his mother was doing her best to calm him down when he stomped out of the room, but not before politing saying bye. It was like a whole ‘nother person almost.
Ray’s father entered the room after his dad left the house. “Liz,” he said quietly, also sounding like a different person; he now had some emotion in his voice. “We gotta do something about that boy. Charles is gonna die of high blood pressure if that boy doesn’t learn to control himself and listen to us like a good child,” he said, sounding stern. He saw their feet but he stayed towards the wall, watching them closely. “He’ll be fine, hun,” she said, shooing him out of the room.
She acted as if nothing was wrong, like everything that had just happened was perfectly normal. Which it could be because they go through this almost daily. Ray would be lucky if he got a day off from this mess. He walked over to the bed and knelt down, looking under it and at Ray. He only squished himself further back, like he was trying to go through the wall. She smiled so gently at him, “It’s okay now, you can come out.” Ray wasn’t even sure what to think. His mother did this often and it confused him so much. She got up and walked over to the window, opening it so the room got some fresh air. Ray wasn’t ever allowed to go outside; his parents were worried he’d run away, which he would if given the chance.
Elizabeth walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Minutes turned into hours before Ray crawled out from under the bed, looking over to his window. On the outside it was barred, so he couldn’t pop out the screen and jump out the window. He got up, limping over to the dresser and pulling out another shirt, looking over to the rags on the floor. He put it on, wiping at the dried blood on his face. He was still getting used to the constant pain of sore, bruised muscles. He limped over to his window, pulling a chair over so he could stand on it and look out at the freedom he could have but didn’t. He hardly ever had the window open. He just wished he could actually have freedom, like the kids he heard playing outside so often. ‘What was it like?’ he wondered.
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