In the Morning Part 1

In the Morning Part 1

A Chapter by Theodore Lee

The Funeral was everything that a funeral should be; quiet and short. It wasn't a big funeral mainly because that there weren't many people that showed up and that we couldn't afford to have a very large service. I was still surprised to see that not even my aunt, her sister didn't even bother to show up. I know now that she hated my father and blamed him for her death but I still can't see how he, even with all of his faults and flaws, he couldn't have seen that truck coming. No matter how many times he hears "It's not your fault. You did everything that anyone would have been able to do." he still wouldn't get over the fact that he was driving that night.


I was just as broken up about it than anyone else that was there, you only burry your mom once it seems. I'm just glad that Jeff wasn't old enough to know her and actually mourn her. No one should go through that. I did and I don't want anyone to have that feeling that they have to carry with them the rest of their life. The mom shaped hole that she left behind will never be filled, but it did get smaller.


Getting home that night was one of the hardest times I was ever able to approach that house in my entire life and is part of the reason why I can't ever go back there. I got inside the dark and empty living room.


I Woke up to the sound of a slamming door and breaking glass. I sit up and look over to my little brother Simon in his crib, fast asleep. The only thought that could go through my head was "good. He hasn't made it over here yet" and knowing that Simon is safe, I get up and walk down the hall to the living room, where my father is on the floor and trying off get up off the floor by grabbing hold of the coffee table. His hand slips and he falls again. As he tries to get up again, I say “Where the hell were you?” This startles him and he falls again. He successfully gets up and looks me in the eye and says “Out” in his raspy, rugged voice, stained with the stench of cheap booze and cigarettes.


“You were out drinking again, weren’t you? I had to explain to Simon that you were working late.”


“Tell him what you want. Those are my rules, and if you don’t like them, tough.” he says as he starts heading for the kitchen. Knowing exactly what he is trying to do, I rush ahead of him and block the liquor cabinet.


“You need to stop this. This isn’t what she would’ve wanted. Can’t you see what it’s doing to you?”


“I can quit whenever I want, now get out of my way or you’ll regret it.” he says as his voice takes on a dark and almost murderous intent.


“No. I won’t let you do this. I…” before I was even able to regret my decision, I was already on the floor, trying to block his punches. By then he had already forgotten who I was. Who he was.  thought that he could get better then, but


That was two years and three visits to the hospital ago, back when I still had hope that he could change, that I could fix him, but he was broken beyond repair.


Now, a senior in high school, still taking care of Simon, who is now seven years old, but I still live with the broken shell of a monster that my father has become. I ,still wake up, everyday, make breakfast with what little is in the fridge for Simon. I get him dressed and take him to school in hopes that the monster hasn’t waken up when I do.


The alarm clock annoys me enough to switch it off, so I get up, get dressed and then wake Simon up, clean him up, and get him dressed. I go the the kitchen, through the den, where he is lying on the couch, sleeping off a hangover, clutching an empty bottle of cheap whiskey. The stench is unbearable, but I muster up the resistance that I have built over the years to block it out and go to the kitchen to make some eggs for Simon. To my surprise, there are four eggs in the fridge, enough for the both of us to have breakfast so I cook them up, and enjoy the first, most important meal of the day, I have had in a long while with Simon


I collect Simon and head for the door and leave for the bus stop to my school. The bus stop is about three blocks away from my house, and while we are walking, Gareth Jackson and his band of goons make themselves known.


“Hey, Thomas. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.” he says in his sarcastic voice


“What do you want Garreth? Last time I checked, I haven't done anything.”


“You see, that’s where you’d be wrong, Smithy. What were you doing talking to my girlfriend? Don't you get tired of carrying around this baby?” he say as he gestures to Simon.


“I’m not a baby!” says Simon in protest, with his small voice.


“So you think you’re a grownup then? The you should be treated like one too. Do you hear that, boys” he say to his gang “we’ve got ourselves a grown man, who isn’t going to stand for this.”


“Leave him out of this, Garreth. He didn’t do anything. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at me. You have the most reason to hate me, even though it’s the smallest reason that your stupid, little mind can come up with.”


“Did you just call me stupid?” he says in shock “big mistake, Smithy. Get him!”


His gang springs from their invisible cages and start to charge at me. I bolt, picking Simon up and start heading for the local liquor store. The whole time that I'm running with Simon in my arms, Gareth and his gang are running to, throwing rocks at us and what ever else they can find on the floor that will hurt if hits anyone in the head, but right now, they don't care about just anyone. They want me and they hit their target a couple of times, but they're not that good at throwing so they only hit me twice in the back and once in my left leg. Turning through the neighborhood, avoiding trees and the rocks, I can start to see the main road that turns off onto 103rd street. I’m almost there, only about a block away, and I can hear them catching up to me. When I reach the door of the liquor store, I dump Simon on the ground and slam on the door and start running from the store, towards the gang of Skylar’s goons, yelling at Simon “Get inside, now!”


I am able to knock the first out of four to the floor, and land a solid hit on the second, but he recovered and landed a blow to my stomach. Bent over, I try to get up before he can land another blow, but I wasn’t quick enough.


Kneeling, Garreth comes over to me and grabs my face “Next time you think that you’re smart, remember that you’re not as smart as you think, if you think you can get away with saying things like that to people like me. Next time I see you talking to my girlfriend, you’re a dead man, and your stupid kid brother won’t be able to do anything but watch.”


He then punches me in the face, giving me a bruise that’ll be there for at least a month, and walks away with his gang, laughing at me in my pain while they walk.


I look over to Simon, as he’s screaming and being held by a man. As I attempt to get up, Simon is put down and he runs as quick as his legs could carry him, to me, closely followed by the man who was carrying him.


"Alex, are you alright?" he screams as he slides down to me and grabs hold of me, holding as tight as his little body would let him, not letting go.


"Yeah, I'm fine." I say through the exhaustion of running and getting beat down.


I hear in a thick middle eastern accent coming from the man who was behind Simon "I tell you over and over again. Stay away from those boys. They are nothing but trouble"


"You must think that I enjoy getting beat up in the morning. It's not me; I keep telling you." IN reply to the old man.


His name was Mr. Mizrah but he had a thing about being called the same thing as his father so he goes by Abdiel to everyone who is fortunate enough to make his acquaintance. The fights started to happen right after my mother had died and one time, the group had chased me to the same liquor store parking lot and in a very similar situation with Garreth but this time he wanted me to clean off the dirt from his bike with my tongue and when I said that the only his mother's mouth was that dirty, he chased me to the liquor store and started to beat me into the pavement. Mr. Mizrah saw it all from his store and he came running out to stop him with a nightstick in his hand. His 6'4", 270 lbs. self was running out into the parking lot with a purpose and the power of his presence was enough to scare away even the toughest goon the Garreth could ever find especially when he continued to destroy the evil of this world and to "illuminate the world to the word of the Lord" or something like that.


He had taken a liking to me and was dedicated to teaching me the ways of the Lord and how through Him only, could I ever find peace with myself and fulfill my purpose in this word. I had never really paid much attention to spirituality at all really; I found it to be a waste of time to put all your hopes and dreams into something you can't even see or feel. He was assured that he alone could save and redeem me and point me to the light, so whenever I got into a fight like this, he would always have a speech prepared about how that my actions were leading me down the wrong path and that I would only find pain and suffering I continued but I never paid much attention to them so i just told him that I was "trying to find my path but the demons are too strong". He would never accept that answer but every time he would try to reply to that, I was off and left him in his delusions.


"You've got to stay away from those devil children. They are wicked and serve nothing but themselves with no greater purpose than themselves. If you continue to walk their path, you will surely perish. I can show you the light so that you can escape the fires of the devil." he said to me as I was picking myself up off the ground, struggling to stand and in a sarcastic voice, I say to him, "The devil is so much stronger than men. I am just a man. What match am I for the like of Satan?"


Not seeing through the sarcasm, he answers me with one of his signature speeches.


"The devil preys on the weaknesses of men and ovoids their strengths because he knows he is no match for the strength of men. God has created us in his image and with that image, he gave us strength to battle the devil and keep him at bay until the day of reckoning. Demons only see weakness because that's all they have." he says with gusto through a layer of genuine belief in his words and his God, but by the time he had finished his prepared speech about redemption, I had already tuned him out and started to get up and take Simon by the hand to take him the rest of the way to school.


“Wherever you go, go with God. His plan will be revealed to you in time. I’m…” he say before I completely ignore him and start walking down the sidewalk, holding Simon’s hand as we walk. Let's hope that no one else wants to beat the hell out of me.




© 2017 Theodore Lee



Author's Note

Theodore Lee
Any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged.

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register




Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

57 Views
Added on December 3, 2017
Last Updated on December 3, 2017


Author

Theodore Lee
Theodore Lee

Cairo, Egypt



About
I write what I can and what that is is yet to be seen. I enjoy writing not because it's an escape from reality or even the thrill of creating an entre world of my own. I enjoy writing because I enjoy .. more..

Writing
The Trees The Trees

A Story by Theodore Lee