Chapter Three

The relationship between Mother and me drastically changed from discipline to punishment. I remember when all I had to do was take a hit or have my face pushed against the mirror; I now know those were only the beginning. Everything got worse as time went on and when Dad wasn't home. Dad was my protector and he was there for me, at least for a little while. When he was home I was like his shadow. I would follow him everywhere just knowing Mother wouldn't do anything and for a change I was safe. One day when Dad was leaving and saying his goodbyes he took me close to him as he knelt to my level and told me that I needed to be a "good boy." What did that mean; I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I obeyed Mother.School was my home away from home. I looked forward to going because I was allowed to be me. I could play with my brother and I wouldn't get punished. I was held back in first grade, on Mother's request because I knew that I had the most smiley face papers in the class. I liked being held back though, I already knew everything and I was in Stan's grade too. We got really close at school but we both knew at home was a different story.Mother became a den mother for our Cub Scouts and she would treat the other kids like kings. It wasn't fair. She finally gave it up and I could go elsewhere for our meetings. She was driving me to a meeting one day when she started yelling at me and I had run to the den mother crying and tell her that I couldn't attend that meeting. She told me that she hoped to see me at the next one. I never did see her again. When we got home mother told me to take off all my clothes and to stand by the stove while she turned on the burners. She explained to me about a story she heard of a mother having her child lie on the stove as a punishment. I became terrified. She grasped my arm and brought it down to the flame. My arm began to burn with unexplainable pain. I collapsed to the ground. She was trying to get me to lie on top of the stove. I began to refuse and ask whining questions. She began to hit me and seemed to forget about being forceful of me to get on the stove. My brother came home and I was free. I grabbed my clothes and ran to the garage. I cried and then soon realized I won! I beat her. I made a promise to myself. I would no longer give into her, I would fight. I would survive.