Jun 8, 2006

AN UNPLEASANT MEMORY

You know those triggers that automatically kicks a bad memory into a "relive" moment?

That happened to me on 6/2/06.

There's this stupid song called "The Rodeo Song", and if you don't know it, here's the lyrics...

Well it's 40 below and I don't give a ****
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left and Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well it's 40 below and I don't give a ****
Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off ya fuckin' jerk get on my nerves
Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand
He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo
And it's Alabama left Alabama right
Come on ya fuckin' dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage ya god damn goof ya know
Piss me off fuckin' jerk get on my nerves


There it is...the last time I heard that song I was 12

My step-dad was drunk and my mom was pregnant with my sister. He smashed her head into the windshield of a blue Chevy Malibu, my step-brother was crying, I was sitting in silence and terror and my step-dad was screaming that if my mom was going to leave, she better have an abortion or else he was gonna kick her in the stomach to make sure she loses the baby.

This was almost 22 years ago.

This all started because I made the mistake of asking if we were going to be leaving the bar soon.

My step-dad had just put money in the jukebox, and this song started. My mom, in a very hushed tone said "Be quiet! You don't want step-dad to hear you!'

But drunk ears pick up everything.

He started screaming at me, "I'm not wasting my hard earned money!! I worked all week, and it was hard work, I deserve this Friday night out. It's MY reward for putting food on the table!!!"

"You are one selfish little prick for even asking something like that!!!"

My mom said, "Don't worry he'll be quiet from now on." I think she was trying to calm him down.

It did not work.

"Don't protect the little shit! He has to learn that the world isn't like his god damn books!!"

My mom got up, and walked out the door.

By herself.

She left all three of us there.

She left me there.

Than step-dad in a very nice and calm voice told step-bro to get his stuff ready, grabbed me by the arm, and shoved me out the door.

I could see that my mom was halfway down the block, walking away and leaving me behind.

Step-dad told us to get in the car.

He drove the car and told my mom to get in.

She didn't.

She said "You're so drunk you're gonna kill him, and I don't wanna see that!!"

So that's when he started screaming "If you're going to leave, you better have an abortion or else I'm was gonna kick you in the stomach to make sure you lose that baby!!"

My mom got in the car.

Just as she settles in, he rams her head into the windshield. Instantly creating a spiderweb.

"You don't never embarrass me in front of my friends ever again!" he yells at her.

During the 20 minute drive home, step-dad is still screaming at me, for ruining his night out.

When we get home, I get sent to my room and he takes step-bro home.

Through the door I ask my mom if she's OK?

During the time that he's gone, my mom says nothing.

I walked out of my room and I ask, "Why did you leave me behind when you walked out the door?"

No response.

I go back into my room.

I sit down with my back against the door and my legs braced against the bed.

I made up mind that night, no matter what happens, I would not run away this time.

I would stand and fight.

When he cames home, he and my mom start up all over again.

While they were screaming at each other, I was getting ready for my confrontation with my step-dad.

Then there was this awful silence.

Step-dad says "Jesus Christ, what have you done this time?"

I run out of my room.

I see my step-dad standing in the middle of the living room.

I see my mom with the phone in her hand and blood streaming down her face.

Step dad went to the bathroom.

I stand there horrified and frozen.

That's my mom, and she's bleeding.

As I look at her, she looks at me, and with a blank stare she hits herself in the head with the phone.

Somehow, (and even to this day I don't know what happened) I had the phone in my hand, and I called 911.

While this was happening, all I could hear was this retching sound coming from the bathroom.

I hung up the phone, walked to the bathroom where the acrid smell of urine and vomit assaulted my senses, grabbed some towels, saw my step-dad with his face in the toilet and kneeling in a puddle of piss.

When the ambulance arrived they took my mom to the hospital.

The cops asked me what happened.

I stood there in silence.

They asked me if I was OK.

I stood there in silence.

Step-dad comes out of the bathroom and says "We were having a fight then she hit herself in the head with the phone, then I called the boy to see if he could do something."

The cop asked me if this was true.

I stood there in silence.

The cop asked me if I was going to be OK.

I nodded. I knew then that this was my only chance to do something, and I failed.

The cops left.

As I stood there in silence, knowing exactly what would happen next, my step-dad approached me, raised his hand and proceeded to give the beating of a lifetime.

"How dare you bring outside people into family business! This is all your fault! If you would only learn to keep your damn mouth shut!"

I took the punches and the slaps in silence.

Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't make a single sound.

A few hours later my mom came back home.

Her head was wrapped in gauze, she gave me a hug and then laid down on the couch.

The next morning, step-dad asks me what happened to the living room, why my mom's head is bandaged and what I did to "fuck everything up?"

I stood there in silence.

All these memories flooded back into my head, because someone played that song.

I really hate that song.

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