Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod
It hurt when she pushed me against the wall and dug her nails into my neck. It really did. I wanted to wish away the pain. I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to run.
But I’d be lying if I said that honestly, really, really, really hurt. It didn’t. It didn’t at all. All I felt was a swift push and then a pinch. She screamed and screamed but I began to tune out.
My mother was no longer in control of herself. She was wearing her emotional mask, with her dead, dead eyes. She was a puppet to her insanity, and I was the poor bastard being strangled inside of the strings. We were playing our parts perfectly.
I was crying and my face was red but inside there was nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
My head hit the wall once more, and then she let me go. I fell down against the wall. I thought that would be the end of it. I thought that would be when she quit.
My mother pivoted around, and faced the roaring karaoke machine CD player. Its orange glow was now obscured by her as she lunged towards it. I realized that she was going to break the only thing I had left. That was when I began to actually, truly, legitimately cry. That was when my mask came off.
She grips the plug and pulls it out of the socket, and then kicks the machine against the radiator. I’m crying and I’m begging but she doesn’t stop. She picks the machine up, and throws it into the corner. Bits of glass and plastic scattered away into my closet.
Why is this happening to me.
I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember waking back up either. I’m just… back.
There are these red marks around my neck and they hurt but goddammit what am I going to do now without music. And fuck I couldn’t open the goddamn radio and get my Tell All Your Friends CD so now I’m just. What do I do now?
I should have jumped I should have drowned I should have died.