I didn't think I would tell a story tonight, but... upon request, and the fact that one just came to mind because of what is happening at the moment, I guess I could tell one.
Back in 2000, being at the small age of 10. A brother of 17, living in the garage, both parents together, but choosing drugs over me. A new computer, and the same old room.
Little innocent me, playing on nick.com, enjoying my little Hey Arnold game. Soon this would be a night of terror.
A fight breaks loose between my parents, upsetting my teddy bear dad. Bringing out the beast that lies within. Shattered glass, broken tables, as if a tornado whipped through the house. In disbelief, I hide in my room, turning on my tv; hoping to drown out the terror in the room next door...
After minutes of being alone with nothing but my own fear, I decide to check whats going on outside. I slowly open up my door, peaking through the frame and the door itself; revealing an uttermost shocking scene. Cups, bowls, and picture frames broken. The dad I thought was loving, sitting on the couch, a sour grim look upon his face. I start to slide down to the ground, trying to avoid his glare...
A remote is thrown across the room, and the anger rises again. "WHO THE F**K BROKE THE REMOTE???" I'm just watching on as my mom comes running out of her bedroom. Soon the fight that had died down earlier was back again, in full blown force. Reaching category 5 on a scale for a hurricane. I slowely get up, reaching for my door so that I could close it to go back to my hiding. When I made a little too much noise...
Before I knew it, I had a computer chair being thrown at me. My mind was telling me to jump back, or duck to avoid the chair; when my reflexs slammed my door shut. The impact of the chair ramming into the door created a force so great that I was thrown back anyway. After a few seconds of realizing what had just happened, I began to curl up in my little ball on my bed. Crying myself to sleep, "how could my own dad just throw a chair at me?"
