We Are But Men
It is early in the morning, during the summer preceding my last year in high school. Having no obligations in this time, I am free to ruin my sleep as I please. Thus, I am not just waking up; no, I have been up for some time, stewing over an argument I'd had with my father the previous night. The man's not had it easy, lately, but he doesn't deserve to. Why give solace to such a spineless cad?
I now hear his ex-wife ascending the stairs. I know what's to come, so I press my ear to the door to eavesdrop.
Don't even start, Lauren. I don't want to hear it.
She starts anyway. Do you know what he did last night? He came stumbling in, drunk, at 11 at night! Your fucking brother drove home drunk! Do you know how many people he could have killed? And you're just letting him do this?
I told you not to start about it, Lauren! God blessed! I've talked to him! Okay? He NEEDS my help right now, and he's family, unlike YOU! Still I extend my help to you, and nonetheless you are always trying to stir trouble in my family! I will not have this from you!
This isn't good. She's about over her head. Listen to me--
NO, you will listen to me. You have no right to decide anything involving his life. The ONLY one that is allowed his ignorance and arrogance in my household is my son, and that's due to his age and inexperience. You... I stop listening.
Well, this isn't good. My logic is telling me that I was not just insulted. He is making a point to her. But she has been good to me, and he has not. My fool pride and hothead self is overwhelming my logic, now, and I'm out of my room, across the hall, into his doorway and past Lauren.
Don't you bring me into this, you drunk.
K, go back to-
You made me part of this, so I'm in it now. Stop yelling at her.
He sits up off his bed. Oho, I get it, you want to intimidate me now. I'm even angrier.
This isn't about you. I don't want to deal with this right now.
Well, you're going to! If she won't stand up to you, I will! You're letting your brother ruin this place and put other people in danger, and you're not stopping him because you're a pathetic drunk just like him!
Please stop, K; that's not true. You imbecile, that's not true.
He stands up.
Get OUT of here!
No!
He's approaching. Lauren backs away. Logic is telling me to stop but pride is still overwhelming. I... I'm an adult now. I can't back down.
We're face to face. I see his eyes are as angry as mine. He has never struck me before. I mentally dare him to.
You're worthless! You can't live up to any of your promises, just like what we argued about last night! You're a worthless, drunken LIAR!
Strange. I thought I had more to say than that, but I can't seem to speak at the moment. Or breathe.
Oh. His hand is on my throat. Good god, he's faster than I thought. I guess that makes sense.
I told you I couldn't do this right now, he hisses, backing me up into my room.
No, don't do this, please stop, I think I hear.
This doesn't feel much like I expected. It doesn't hurt. But my head is getting light. He is a cop, and a former blackbelt. He knows his stuff. I thought maybe the alcohol would slow him down if it ever came to this.
We reach my room. It dawns on me that it DID come to this. I guess I hadn't believed it.
It dawns on him, too. He lets go.
No, oh god. I'm sorry.
I say nothing, clutching at my throat. I don't trust myself to speak.
I'm sorry, son. I acted in anger. You know how much my... I'm not a liar, son. Please forgive me.
I shake my head, but still say nothing. I'm fighting to not cry. Still in disbelief.
Please.
I can't meet his eye. Hothead is gone.
He stands for a moment longer, then turns to go. His head is hung. He still has to work today.
As soon as he has left my room, I throw on my shoes and go outside. Away from the house. Just away. I wait for around two hours. When I come back, he's gone, but she isn't.
Jesus, K, are you okay? I was about to call the police... Your dad has gone to work...
I've got to leave, Lauren. I've got to get out of here. I need you to drive me to my mom's. I'll get my stuff and put it in your truck. Please.
Okay, She says without hesitation.
I hope my mom will be okay with this. Otherwise... I don't even know an otherwise. But I can't worry about that now. I've got to get everything out of here as soon as possible. I can't risk seeing him again. Not after that.
Within a few hours, I am moved. I know he'll know where I am. But I don't think he'll come to try and get me. It's around 1 PM. I finally allow myself to cry over the events of the morning.
My logic is, of course, telling me that it is my fault I pushed him to that extreme, and while not acceptable, he is but a man, and I must forgive him.
But there's another side, one I'm just recently becoming acquainted with, that tells me this was exactly what I needed to get out of that house I was feeling so stifled in. And that he would suffer by my absence, as retribution for all that had happened in the past years.
My sadism has just come to life.
...
Later in the day, when she gets home, my mother is told what has happened. She adjusts to my living there surprisingly fast. I find she's had time, as my dad called her and told her what happened while she was at work. She also informs me that he told her he'd like to meet with me, later the following evening and with her present, to discuss the event. I refuse. She tries a lighter approach, and still I refuse.
This is the first time the power of someone else's pain has been in my hands and I relish in it. Not their physical pain. No, the lasting kind.
I feel right. I feel just.
I feel sick.
K