Mouse twisted in the bed. The Ice-lady had put him to bed. He wanted to work very, very hard on speaking - and he was going to get much better at speaking. Now he had a reason to....care....about manners. Nobody
was going to hit him if he did something wrong. Unlike before.
Leave me where I stand To run away from it all.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, but his father didn't care. It didn't matter. He'd done badly on the spelling test from the book his father had given him. According to his father, he deserved the spanking he was getting. The spanking that was going to leave him 'unable to sit for a week'. He should have passed the test, the first time, and done it perfectly. But he was too stupid for that. He would never be good enough.
Fly away from the pain from the anger fly away from you. He shuddered, shifting his weight again in his sleep, trying to stay comfortable. Thinking about his Dad wasn't something he could control - he didn't understand why Dad had said those things....what they were intended to do. But said them he had. James had told him that Dad was wrong to do it. The Lady had seemed incredibly mad back when Mouse had told her what Dad had done to him - madder even than Dad had seemed to get. It had frightened him - he thought she was going to hit him like Daddy had....but she hadn't hit him. She had told him that "no child should be touched that way by an adult." That the "things your father said were totally untrue." That he wasn't stupid....not at all.
To vanish from this place to leave (my)yourself behind to find yourself again in this so-called state of mind.
Mommy was screaming. "Matthew, get out of here before he hits you too!" He could remember Daddy laughing as he ran.
"Run all you like, you little brat," he'd screamed after his son. "You won't get away from me when I want you!" And it was true....he hadn't gotten away. His father's hand, and then his belt, had found him. They had struck. Over and over and over....and so had his father's voice. Calling him a 'waste of life'....a 'waste of time'....Mouse....Matthew....had wanted to hate him....but he was Daddy.....and little boys weren't supposed to hate their daddies.
Stand forth and take the burn a slow and painful tremor building through your soul.
Little boys, Mommy had taught him, were supposed to love their Mommies and Daddies, and they would love their little boy. Something had gone wrong with that, and it hurt so much, even now. He winced again, squeezing the teddy bear that Ice had given him, and the tears silently streamed down the cheeks of a little boy who'd been betrayed by one of the first two people he'd ever truly loved.
You take it all despite the pain to do what you think is right but all it brings are worthless things and a heart torn asunder by spite.
'Vanish' (Italics between paragraphs) - by anonymous source Written October 1995
Leave me where I stand To run away from it all.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, but his father didn't care. It didn't matter. He'd done badly on the spelling test from the book his father had given him. According to his father, he deserved the spanking he was getting. The spanking that was going to leave him 'unable to sit for a week'. He should have passed the test, the first time, and done it perfectly. But he was too stupid for that. He would never be good enough.
Fly away from the pain from the anger fly away from you. He shuddered, shifting his weight again in his sleep, trying to stay comfortable. Thinking about his Dad wasn't something he could control - he didn't understand why Dad had said those things....what they were intended to do. But said them he had. James had told him that Dad was wrong to do it. The Lady had seemed incredibly mad back when Mouse had told her what Dad had done to him - madder even than Dad had seemed to get. It had frightened him - he thought she was going to hit him like Daddy had....but she hadn't hit him. She had told him that "no child should be touched that way by an adult." That the "things your father said were totally untrue." That he wasn't stupid....not at all.
To vanish from this place to leave (my)yourself behind to find yourself again in this so-called state of mind.
Mommy was screaming. "Matthew, get out of here before he hits you too!" He could remember Daddy laughing as he ran.
"Run all you like, you little brat," he'd screamed after his son. "You won't get away from me when I want you!" And it was true....he hadn't gotten away. His father's hand, and then his belt, had found him. They had struck. Over and over and over....and so had his father's voice. Calling him a 'waste of life'....a 'waste of time'....Mouse....Matthew....had wanted to hate him....but he was Daddy.....and little boys weren't supposed to hate their daddies.
Stand forth and take the burn a slow and painful tremor building through your soul.
Little boys, Mommy had taught him, were supposed to love their Mommies and Daddies, and they would love their little boy. Something had gone wrong with that, and it hurt so much, even now. He winced again, squeezing the teddy bear that Ice had given him, and the tears silently streamed down the cheeks of a little boy who'd been betrayed by one of the first two people he'd ever truly loved.
You take it all despite the pain to do what you think is right but all it brings are worthless things and a heart torn asunder by spite.
'Vanish' (Italics between paragraphs) - by anonymous source Written October 1995