Time to Think {Closed}
Mar 28, 2012 17:27:11 GMT -5
Post by unorc01 on Mar 28, 2012 17:27:11 GMT -5
Uno Verren, District Seven
"What? What do you want?" I stand there, fuming.
"Don't you talk to me like that, boy," Jerrel replies." I raised you better than that."
"When did you raise me, fat ass? you've done nothing but sit in a chair drinking alcohol since mom died."
This gets a reaction out of him. Good. His eyes are piercing me like red-hot daggers. "Don't you ever..." he snarls, taking a swig from a bottle. "Boy, I've told you more times then I can count not to talk about your mother." His lips contort into a menacing snarl under his jet-black beard.
"What're you gonna do? Beat me again? It doesn't bother me like it used to, Jerrel." I reply.
"I just might," he replies. "You keep callin' me Jerrel. I'm your dad, boy. you'll address me as such."
"You're my dad? C'mon, really? What have you ever done for me? I work my ass off every day so you can keep drinking, and you don't even stand up. I clean up your messes, feed you, cook for you. And you don't even have the respect to say thanks. Yeah, that's a great way to earn my respect, to not respect me."
Now I've done it. His eyes bulge out in anger and he shakily stands. He takes the last drink for the bottle and places it on the table where a bunch of other bottles are. "Boy, you've just crossed the line."
Yep, he's gonna beat me, I think. I know I can outrun him, get outside, climb a tree. But I'm pretty pissed too. "So you're gonna beat me? Finally a way for you to get off your fat, lazy, ass! You're lucky you have me, you drunkard! I cut down trees everyday, not you! I buy the food for both of us, cook it, and shovel it into your bottomless stomach! You see how skinny I am, fatass? Meanwhile, you're over there, over 250 pounds, and not a word of thanks is uttered out of your mouth! You think I'm useless! Well, how about I just leave then! I can run off, you know! Then what will you do? Who'll clean up after you? Who'll feed you? Who'll work their fucking ass off every fucking day to get enough money to feed your fucking alcohol addiction?! No one!"
That little speech really got him going. Each word made his eyes narrow even more, his fists clenching so hard his nails dug into his palms. I've got my intended effect out of it. Now it's time to go.
"Boy," he says. "I'm about ready to beat you so bad, you won't even know your name when I'm done."
And with that, he charges.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He's slow. I'm fast. His outstretched arms are still a foot away from me when I run out the door. It's night. I head over to one of the many treelines and clamber up the tallest tree I see, up to the very top branch. I'm so angry right now. I want to hurt someone. Anyone wandering around?
I've never had an outburst like that before. All my pent up anger just flowing out of me. I haven't had a chance to let my anger out. And now my dad's so pissed he'll be mad even after he's drunk. I make the decision now to just stay in the trees, not buy him food, or booze, or visit him. We'll see how he likes that. I calm myself down, cool my nerves, and lay in the branches. It only takes a few minutes to fall asleep.
"What? What do you want?" I stand there, fuming.
"Don't you talk to me like that, boy," Jerrel replies." I raised you better than that."
"When did you raise me, fat ass? you've done nothing but sit in a chair drinking alcohol since mom died."
This gets a reaction out of him. Good. His eyes are piercing me like red-hot daggers. "Don't you ever..." he snarls, taking a swig from a bottle. "Boy, I've told you more times then I can count not to talk about your mother." His lips contort into a menacing snarl under his jet-black beard.
"What're you gonna do? Beat me again? It doesn't bother me like it used to, Jerrel." I reply.
"I just might," he replies. "You keep callin' me Jerrel. I'm your dad, boy. you'll address me as such."
"You're my dad? C'mon, really? What have you ever done for me? I work my ass off every day so you can keep drinking, and you don't even stand up. I clean up your messes, feed you, cook for you. And you don't even have the respect to say thanks. Yeah, that's a great way to earn my respect, to not respect me."
Now I've done it. His eyes bulge out in anger and he shakily stands. He takes the last drink for the bottle and places it on the table where a bunch of other bottles are. "Boy, you've just crossed the line."
Yep, he's gonna beat me, I think. I know I can outrun him, get outside, climb a tree. But I'm pretty pissed too. "So you're gonna beat me? Finally a way for you to get off your fat, lazy, ass! You're lucky you have me, you drunkard! I cut down trees everyday, not you! I buy the food for both of us, cook it, and shovel it into your bottomless stomach! You see how skinny I am, fatass? Meanwhile, you're over there, over 250 pounds, and not a word of thanks is uttered out of your mouth! You think I'm useless! Well, how about I just leave then! I can run off, you know! Then what will you do? Who'll clean up after you? Who'll feed you? Who'll work their fucking ass off every fucking day to get enough money to feed your fucking alcohol addiction?! No one!"
That little speech really got him going. Each word made his eyes narrow even more, his fists clenching so hard his nails dug into his palms. I've got my intended effect out of it. Now it's time to go.
"Boy," he says. "I'm about ready to beat you so bad, you won't even know your name when I'm done."
And with that, he charges.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He's slow. I'm fast. His outstretched arms are still a foot away from me when I run out the door. It's night. I head over to one of the many treelines and clamber up the tallest tree I see, up to the very top branch. I'm so angry right now. I want to hurt someone. Anyone wandering around?
I've never had an outburst like that before. All my pent up anger just flowing out of me. I haven't had a chance to let my anger out. And now my dad's so pissed he'll be mad even after he's drunk. I make the decision now to just stay in the trees, not buy him food, or booze, or visit him. We'll see how he likes that. I calm myself down, cool my nerves, and lay in the branches. It only takes a few minutes to fall asleep.
