Saturday, December 29, 2007

Getting Pushed

I've often said that when they were passing out stepfathers I must have been out taking a wiz because the one I got was a real bum deal. From the earliest moments that I was forced to live with this bastard it was constant conflict. Obviously he had never been a kid so he didn't know how to treat children. His family followed suit. I could easily see where he got his degree of being an ass hole.
I was about 8 years old when this took place. We lived in these apartments called Valwood Village. It wasn't too bad. I lived close to some friends from school. In fact this was the only time I remember playing outside. At this point in my life I still thought that I had a right to be outside of my room. I thought I had the liberty to be in the living room for example. I would be there and so would Grendel. We didn't talk much as you might have guessed.
It was New Year's Day so he was not working that day and I didn't have school. My mother on the other hand had to work. She was a house keeper and one of the rich people for whom she cleaned houses for needed a maid for a New Year's Day party or something. My mom took any job she could. She not only had to feed and clothe me but she also had to feed and clothe the family back in the old country.
From my room I heard a knock at the door and my step dad opened the door. It was one of his cousins. This guy's name was Tony. What a douche bag. He knew a little English and he thought he was hot shit. He was also a pervert. He walked in and began to speak to my step dad.
Its about mid morning and I'm getting hungry so I went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. There were no butter knives available so I took what was handy. What was handy was a long pointy knife, the kind found only in B horror films. I stood at the kitchen table making my sandwich trying not to be noticed by this prick Tony or my step dad. I didn't want to end up making sandwiches for the bastards.
My step dad's family thought it was their mission to fuck with me until they made me cry or till I got into trouble. Things they both accomplished. That's why I was trying to be invisible at that particular moment. I was concentrated. Some mayo, some ham, a slice of ham and some more mayo to top off with some white bread. Wonder Bread. I don't know why but the wonder bread design grossed me out. I don't have the slightest clue how to explain that.
The plate with two sandwiches cut into four pieces. I thought it looked fancy. Some chips to go along with the New Year's meal. Almost home now, all I have to do is put up the wonder bread, the ham, the mayo and the cheese. Just when I thought I was home free there he stood with his car salesman smile. A smirk found on ass hole, pricks, bullies, pieces of shit and the like all over the world. Then and there I knew that later that day I was going to regret what was about to happen.
My step dad is watching the television and is not paying much attention. The bastard Tony has decided to go to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. There he is standing in my way. He is standing in my way of having a peaceful day with no problems with my step dad or my mom.
Right off the bat he starts with the subject he best knows, or he thinks he knows. He starts talking about women. Really he starts talking about sex. He is talking about sex to an 8 year old boy. He is not talking about the birds and bees; he is talking hardcore pornography type stuff. I don't know if this is correct or not, I don't have children nor do I associate much with children, but talking pornographic scenarios with an 8 year old boy I think that can land you in jail.
His one sided conversation about fucking women in all sorts of ways goes on for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile my step dad was in la la land watching the TV. Even if he heard what Tony was talking about he wouldn't step in to correct the situation. So there I am alone. It was obvious that Tony aimed to make me uncomfortable and get a reaction from me. He either wanted me to cry or for me to cuss him out. I stayed quiet. I swayed one way to try and get around him to put up the ham and mayo. He kept his sight on me and the conversation straight towards me.
I went back to the table to pick up my plate and make a break for my room and lock myself in when I noticed that I had left the knife out. I dreaded looking at that knife because it meant that I had to go back to where the sink was and would have to listen to this guy and the words "pussy" "clit" and so on.
I was picking up the knife to take it to the sink trying to block out all the things he was saying to make me uncomfortable when I heard two things from his filthy mouth:
"You don't like pussy man? Are you a fag?"
Tony, needles to say was a stupid man, a very, very stupid man. The words he said were "are you a fag". I heard "you're a fag". I had the knife in my hand. In those days when I was in this type of situation of being uncomfortable I would look down. I never raised my head. To this day when I walk I look down, I don't lift my eyesight much. I looked down at the table. My hand there with this shiny knife and in my mind I could see his face with that dip shit smirk as he said the word "fag".
I raised my head and at the same time I grabbed the knife with rage in my hand. I turned around and looked at him. I think that was the first time he actually saw my eyes. Sure enough he had that smirk as if he thought he was joking around with a life long friend. The thing was I knew him for what seemed a life time, but we were not friends. His smirk slowly but surly faded away as I raised that knife and placed the tip of the blade to his chest. His faced looked like some had just told him his mother had just died. I pressed the blade just a little into his chest. Any more pressure and this cocksucker was going to bleed.
It seemed like it was hours of silence as I stared into his eyes and for the first time I saw horror in the eyes of another. I didn't have his respect, but I had his fear and his complete attention. If it wasn't respect I took what I could get. He finally got breath in his lungs to whimper out my step dad's name.
My step dad yelled at me to put the knife down and all kinds of other curses. I brought the knife down walked around Tony who was about to shit his pants and put the knife in the sink. I got my sandwiches went to my room. I closed the door and I could still hear my step dad yelling things at me. Needless to say when my mom got home I got my punishment. I wasn't allowed to give my side of the story. I felt it was unfair, but at the same time I also felt it was totally worth it. Soon after that my mom stopped giving me spankings; eventually I stopped crying when she would hit me.
Tony, never spoke to me again when he would visit. In fact I don't remember him coming around much after that. Many years later when we had moved into a house and I was about 17 I was home alone. By this time I had long hair back in a pony tail and I also grew a thick goatee. I looked like one of those guys off of Americas Most Wanted. Anyway, I was home alone and the door bell rung. I went opened the door and then the screen door. There was this small guy standing there. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place him. He asked for my step dad. I told him that he wasn't in but that if he wanted he could come in and wait for him. He quickly told me that he would come back later and walked quickly off the porch.
I closed the door still trying to place who this guy was. Then it hit me. I should have known him from the moment I opened the door, he still had that stupid fucked up smirk on his face. When he recognized who I was that smirk faded away quickly. Tony. I should have insisted in him coming into the house, maybe he would have soiled himself. Tony; what a stupid man, he never thought the kid who he fucked with would one day grow up. He never thought that he would grow old.

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