Habitual Ire

First published on Medium.com on August 8, 2016.

(short fiction #1)

“Why, Andy? Why?”. My mom couldn’t fathom what she had just discovered. Demons of sadness and anger were devouring her soul at the same time. I had done something really terrible. Just another day with me.

“For twenty years, I had to raise a devilish son LIKE YOU!”. Her howling was so intense, even those demons ran away, searching for a more manageable victim. She slapped me.

“Why did you do this to me?”. I could barely hear her words with my face hurting. My eyes got teary.

“HEY! You don’t have the right to cry! I should be the one who cry, you spoiled pig!”. She pushed me to the ground and proceeded to stomp me with her feet. Her body became really hot every time she was angry. As a result, my torso was covered with burns. My T-shirt was singed. I started to get use to the pain.

“STAND UP!”. I did and she slapped me again. “You are more priviliged than most kids! You are even more priviliged than your sister! I let you to choose any schools you wanted! I gave you nice foods which made you fat! I gave you an expensive computer! I took you to nice holidays! I never forced you to be a top student! I tolerated every single one of your sins! Yet, this is the reward I get from you! Why, Dan? Why?”.

I stood silent.

“ANSWER ME, YOU AUTISTIC PIECE OF SHIT!”. Her screaming cracked the living room mirror.

“I….I…..”, I stuttered.

“SPEAK CLEARLY! WHY DON’T YOU CURE YOUR STAMMERING?” This time, her screaming detonated the television set.

“I…I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” She punched me in the face. I was surprised that my nose didn’t bleed.

As expected, I spent the whole night listening to her repeating the same sentences over and over again. That’s her. If there is nothing to talk about, just repeat the something that has been said before. Her so-called guardian angels hated me. Every time I angered her, they made sure the time slowed down for me; a minute literally felt like a day. It was very physically and mentally exhausting.

By midnight, she dismissed me to my room. She told me to get some introspection about my action. She said she wanted a solution for my misdemeanor ready in the morning. When I was out of her sight, I quickly paced to my room. I was relieved to be inside, the place where I had complete control of everything. I changed to a fresh T-shirt and proceeded to use my laptop for internet, my main source of entertainment. Knowing what to expect, I decided to look at the mirror.

My head and a chunk of chest were missing. They always were every time I brought anger, sadness or both to someone else; they were devoured by the demon who constantly followed me (obviously, they would grow back in the morning). I knew why he always did it. I may said sorry. But, I knew I would torment my mom over and over again. The worse part was she knew that as well and she would still give me those luxuries. I let the demon grew. Oh, what a wonderful soul I have.

Author: The Stammering Dunce

I write blogs. I love to act smarter than I really am and I pretend that my opinions are of any significance. Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=9674796

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: