Chapter Six

After Mother stabbed me Father spent less time at home. I always hoped that he wouldn't leave but he always had some excuse. I sat in the garage listening to him walk out. He was still my protector because when he was home Mother didn't do half as much as she did when he wasn't home. He had a habit to help me with the dishes when he was there, he would wash and I would dry. We would talk softly to each other so Mother wouldn't hear or the boys for that matter. He would call me Tiger just like he did when I was little and he would promise me that we would get out of the madhouse together, he was going to find a way. All good things must come to an end though and Father had to stop helping me with the dishes because Mother said "the boy" didn't need help and he needed to pay more attention to the others in family because he was spending too much time with me. Of course Father gave up on me and gave into Mother, she had complete control. He wouldn't even stay home on his days off anymore but once he knelt down and told me that he was planning our getaway and that he was sorry. I knew it was dream and a fantasy like thing but I believed him just for that minute so I could smile and fool myself. When he spoke to me now he looked different, he wasn't my "dad", he had dark black circles around his eyes, he was red around his face and neck, his shoulders were slumped instead of strong and powerful, and his dark hair was turning gray. When he was leaving I would throw my arms around him, I didn't know when I would see him again.
Later on I was ordered to wash my ragged, dirty clothes but I was so upset about Father leaving I cried in the clothes just wishing for him to come back and get me. I had to stop myself so I took my anger and hurt out on my chore, I scrubbed my clothes until my knuckles bled. I just wanted to leave this "madhouse."
Mother starved me for 10 days straight when Father wasn't around. I was so hungry. Mother knew what she was doing though, she cleaned up the dishes herself, put the food down the garbage disposal, locked up the freezer in the garage, and rummaged through the trash just so I couldn't eat. I was used to not eating for long periods of time but not this long. To survive and beat my hunger I would drink water out of the wash sink faucet. I drink until I thought I would explode. Mother enjoyed this game and she started to put food in front of me and then tell me I had a limited amount of time to eat it. I would attempt to eat but she would snatch the plate away. I learned though, I started to hold onto the plate and I would surround it so she couldn't take it. I was hungry, I had to eat and I got the food.
Mother's other game that she liked was the gas chamber. She would mix ammonia and Clorox together in a bucket and tell me that I had to clean the bathroom. I didn't think it was that hard until she closed the door and I began to breath. My throat became raw and sore, I tried to avoid it so I would push the bucket by the door and I would go to the opposite corner trying to breath. I tried to catch the air coming from the vent and breathing through a rag but nothing helped that much. Mother would open the door and tell me that I had to empty the bucket immediately because I was stinking up her house. As soon as I would return downstairs I would throw up blood.
Mother got bored. Towards the end of the summer I would be sent out to mow lawns and Mother would give me a quota to reach. There was no way I could reach it because nobody wanted somebody like me to mow their lawn, I stunk and I had ragged clothes. One time I took nine dollars from a girl and Mother found out about it and of course returned the money and beat me until I was black and blue but I was trying to make her money. I was even given lunch before but she saw that too, she thought I stole it so when I got home I had to sit on the stone outside in a POW position. I was cold, even the sun avoided me. Another game Mother started was me lying in the bathtub with freezing water. When she would finally let me out I had to put my clothes on right away and go sit on the stone again in the POW position.
I was tired of Mother's games but it was my life. There was one person that acted like she cared, my substitute teacher in fourth grade. I liked being cared about but of course she left too. I am literally exhausted of the games and being teased but it's my life and I have to live it.