Cold Truths part 1

Chapter 50

Cold Truths

Part 1

Mom was silent on the way home, angry, but silent. She and I were hoping the psychologist would have been more of a bigger help then he actually was. She knew the truths in the files with my name on it, but it was a whole different thing to hear them come out of a fourteen-year-old boy and watch him slip away each night back into those nightmares. Nearly everything triggered a panic attack just as real as the nightmares.

When we arrived home all the junk that had been stored in Arthur’s room was sitting out on the back lawn. Broken chairs, boxes of old clothing random things that you should have thrown away over the years, but kept for sentimental reasons or by chance could be re purposed. Yet in truth, it never happened or they just weren’t worth keeping. Shawn was clearly sunburned; where there once was white pink healthy skin is now red from the suns rays as he worked in the buff.

Mom and I knew that it was wrong to have a fourteen-year-old boy, son or not. Run out outdoors naked as the day he was born.  It’s a whole different thing when they are almost babies or toddlers. Yet a punishment is a punishment and he had earned it. So we turned a blind eye and ignored that was even happening, besides no one could see us anyway this far away from the public eye.

Dad came over as Mom pulled into the driveway so Shawn could wash the car. Finding a flatbed truck that Dad had rented or borrowed from somewhere, piled with more junk from the basement. Dad opened the car smiled took her by the waist and walked to where everyone, but me had been sorting through the random mess as the boys carried it out of the basement. I had noticed long scratches on Shane’s back that had not been there before. They looked like claw marks from a wild animal. I didn’t have to guess, I knew who the animal was, and the animal was me.

Dad asked how it went? Mom frowned saying it didn’t go well; Dad asking was it me or the Doctor? His voice hard as the monster was knocking at the door; Mom calmly said. “That doctor couldn’t grasp what was real or which was fiction when he had everything handed to him in the palm of his hand.”

Dad sighed heavily nodding his head and said. “Then we will just keep looking. Perhaps the sleep studies will be more convincing if they see it for themselves.”

By the time Dad turned around and noticed me, it was too late. I screamed in terror seeing a long handle ax and a whip lying on the ground near some boxes. But in my minds realty, I was seeing my parents picking them up to swing them back and forth as they came towards me.  I tried backing up but something or someone grabbed me from behind. I struggled against the unseen force ripping free and ran as my parents chased after me.

I could hear and see my father and mother screaming angrily. Demanding I come back and face my punishment.  I had fallen several times, but I went deeper into the fields screaming “No, I won’t let you kill me or and take me back to the boiler-room just so you can beat me and Aaron without anyone knowing about it.” I kicked and I screamed as my father tackled me to the ground. Pinning me as my mother tied my hands and feet while I struggled to get free.

I could feel the warm blood oozing through the ropes as I struggled to get free; my teeth biting my hands and the ropes on them. Only to be gagged while I tried to roll and thrash against them. My body jerked feeling the whip and my father's belt and seeing ax covered in my brother’s blood. Aaron’s body lay on the ground near me. Something warm and heavy was on top me as I tried to buck free. I was held in place, unable to free me. I could feel my father’s breath, and then the dream shattered when I heard the words. “Tiger, it’s not real. It’s not real. Breathe Tiger, breathe.”

I closed my eyes letting the words soothe my mind; repeating back; “it’s not real, it’s not real.” I breathed deeper letting the dream wash over me repeating over and over my safe words. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and calmly. Dad was holding me in his arm, rocking me waiting calmly for me to say them one more time; “I am safe and parents cannot find me.” I could feel my warm tears on my cheek as he held me in his arms again I repeated. “I am safe, and no one can find me.”

Dad slowly and carefully untied my hands and feet letting Mom and Shane take me inside to clean me up. Mom quickly took my stats and Shane undressed me, putting me into the tub. I closed my eyes letting the warm water trickle down my skin while Mom bathed me.

When Mom was done she kissed my cheek and dressed me in another clean pair of boxers tossing the others and my ruined shorts into the garbage, seeing the rips and tears as I fought off my phantom attackers. Walking me down to mine and Shane’s room in the family room and checked the windows and the door. Closed the heavy curtains leaned down and tucked me into bed leaving the family room door open. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep. Feeling safe and loved, knowing my parents couldn’t find me.

Yet again I was alone. It had seemed only minutes when I closed my eyes and once again I woke up screaming seeing my mother holding the bloody ax and my father holding the whip ready to strike, but a third member had been added to their crew holding a kitchen knife. It was no other than Dr. Colburn, standing alongside them.

His cold lips slurred. “Boy, you don’t know what fear is,” I screamed as I ran towards the door of his office while they slowly walked towards me. I pulled on the door, but it wouldn’t open. I could hear the whooshing sound from the ax and the snap of the whip as it hit my back I screamed in pain pounding on the door. Yelling for help, only to feel the knife cut against my arms. I screamed feeling the pain as it sliced my skin. I turned again toward the door grabbing the doorknob. Only to be pulled back as my father grabbed me around the waist, throwing me to the floor.

Doctor Colburn laughed as he stepped to the side, letting my father dragged me to the middle of the room binding my feet and hands. I watched him hand my mother the knife growled. “Now I will hear the cold truth from you, then you will die.” I screamed and kicked free watching the knife slip through my mother’s fingers I quickly grabbed it. Using my teeth to hold the knife, working back and forth quickly cutting the ropes, so I could free my hands and quickly freed my feet.

My hands slippery from the blood, I rolled away and crawled quickly towards the door. My father angry threw himself on top of me; pinning me to the ground. Putting me my bloody hands behind my back, I struggled, but I couldn’t break free not without breaking my arms, I screamed. “Why? What I have done, that you can not just let me and my brother go and why did you kill him?” I waited for the answer, but all I could hear was my father warm breath, His chest breathing hard. Holding me tighter as I struggled to get free, but I couldn’t move so I laid there waiting for them to kill me. I closed my eyes and calmed myself and growled. “I am not safe, I will never be safe, this is real and you are going to kill me.”

No one answered as I laid there feeling the weight of my father on my back, his hard warm breath, breathing against the back of my neck.  I accepted my fate and relaxed said. “Death is the only solution.”

My father calmly answered. “No, Tiger. Death is not a solution. Fight Tiger, fight them, fight Tiger and never surrender. Now breathe, and repeat. This is not real, this is not real.”

I repeated slowly and calmly letting my body relaxes. I closed my eyes and repeated the words again. Sobbing as Dad pulled me into his arms and hugged me. I slowly opened my eyes watching each of my phantom’s slowly slip back into the shadows. Feeling the warm sun on my face as it came through the windows, I breathed deeply and said. “I am safe.” 

Dad squeezed me tighter saying over and over. “My little tiger is safe and I love you.” 

I closed my eyes and said. “I love you Dad,” With my eyes closed I let the sun warm my face. Feeling tired, so very tired, feeling my body fall against him said with barely a whisper. “I love…you.., Dad.”

The next time I woke. I was lying in the hospital, listening to the slow beeps of the monitors. My feet and arms hurt as I tried to move them without success. I slowly opened my eyes seeing Dad kneeling next to me holding my hand praying. I moaned trying to move, but something was holding me down. I struggled against my bonds startling them.

Dad looked up with tears in his eyes, his shoulders sank with relief. His clothes covered in blood. Mom was on the other side of me crying, clutching my hand against her warm wet cheek. I slowly moved my fingers, wrapped in bandages. She opened her eyes and smiled, squeezing my hand softly, I groaned feeling the pain radiate to every part of my body I groaned asking.” Did anyone get the number of the truck that ran me over?”

Mom cried even more as Dad quickly stood up and quickly fell against me hugging me as he lay completely flat. I was unable to move against the restraints; letting him sob against me; thanking God, that I was awake. After two days dead to the world, wondering if I’d ever wake again. Mom cried, even more, laughing and crying hysterically, squeezing my hand as I groaned because it hurt. Dad hugged me again before letting me go sagging into the chair near my bed. Trying to calm himself, as he cried into his hands. Thanking God over and over. It seemed like entirety before they stopped sobbing.

I had learned that I had nearly bled to death after somehow grabbing a kitchen knife and nearly cutting the arteries on my arms, hands and my feet before they were able to stop me. I had passed out from total exhaustion from the lack of sleep after 8 days and loss of blood. They had to restrain me while I was out, in case I tried harming myself consumed by my terrors. Telling me they had tried numerous times having to sedate me, but I kept waking up trying to fight off my parent's phantoms. I hadn’t stopped fighting until I had woken two days later. Restrained until they knew I was no longer consumed from the dream. I was released two days later; with enough drugs to take down an elephant or wild tiger in my case.

Doctor Colburn was released from my care soon after the sleep study and I was reassigned to another child psychologist by the name. Doctor Ted Anderson who deals with dream theory and dream psychoses (It is believed that If you go without sleep long enough, odd visual changes begin to occur and sometimes outright visual hallucinations can occur. Finally, there is a generalized sense of uneasiness or free-floating anxiety that seems to pervade the consciousness of the unslept mind. When you put all these elements together you get a picture of someone experiencing a mental breakdown.)

I was on the edge of total mental breakdown; I could not sleep through the night without being drugged, but sometimes being drugged wasn’t enough. I had to learn all over again how to sleep and recognized what was real and what wasn’t. It was also a very long time before I would ever sleep safely and alone without waking up screaming. Shane, I were bed-mates and sometimes Kerry or both depending on how bad the night terror was. Considering they were the only ones I truly trusted, and we developed new safe words so I could determine who was with me. The words “that this isn’t real” stopped working, my mind refused to believe them sometimes using those words to trick me.

So I would learn a simple phrase. “Tigers have seven stripes, Tigers have seven strips, I Roar and I can dream because Tiger has seven stripes.” I would repeat this over and over until the phantom retreated, and in return they would repeat “Who is the Tiger that has the fiercest roar?” and keep asking me until I answer “I roar because I am the Tiger with the seven stripes” breathing slowly and repeat until I could feel calm and safe. Some nights I’d wake up and never go back to sleep. I would hear my brother crying in the middle of the night or I would see my parents.

I hated to dream, I hated to sleep period. Darkness became my enemy, where I spend my nights pacing the floor of my room or Dad and Shane would sit up with me watching TV during a thunderstorm when the drugs didn’t work.  But the longer I went without the more panic attacks came. It did get better over time as I talked about them. Even today I still have the night terrors and seldom sleep.  The best sleep I would get was during the daylight hours.