And so it began

Whatever

I wanted to yell for help, as I just woke up, laying on my back, in my bed, surrounded by the grinning darkness, looming in the all too familiar, silence before the storm feeling...
My body, paralyzed, heart racing...
My breathing required all my concentration, and effort....
I was hoping, that it will pass in a minute, but then... Banging on my door killed all my hopes. I remember, I locked the door, and the key is on my desk, by the window, facing my bed... "Who the hell is that..." The terror dragged question ran through my head... The banging got worse by every second... Louder, harder. "They're gonna break it down... Where's my dad? It's impossible that no one else is hearing this." The thoughts, escorted by growing terror, slowly walked in..
"Wake up sleepyheads!" It's what I wanted to scream out, but all that came out was mumbling...
I couldn't even blink, my eyes darted at the door... Some relief came, when the banging went silent. For long seconds, silence rained down... Then, the familiar creaking sound killed my renewed hopes, that it's going to pass, soon. The door opened, slowly, producing that always annoying sound, striking horror in my head. I could do nothing, but watch, in awe as the door revealed nothing, and nobody behind it, that could have done the banging, and opening without a key.
"This is just a nightmare... this is just a nightmare, this is just.. F**k this, I wanna wake up!!!!"
I yelled in my head, but nothing happened. A gentle breeze flowed into the room, touching my sweaty forehead, and face...
The scene slowly changed.... The door was swaying back 'n forth.... Bang! It shut itself. "Wake up you son of a b***h!!! Wake up!" I screamed at myself... Nothing...
The sudden feeling of a hand touching my face, nearly gave me a heart attack. "S**t!!!" I thought, waking up, breathing heavily...
"Goddamn nightmares..."

"Argh..." and sigh of exhaustion, was my answer to the alarmclock function on my phone... "This can't be... Stupid, darn mornings..." I thought, as the bed threw me out, onto the furry, green carpet. "Okay... " I thought, with the evil feeling of "this day is about to start...and its going to be very, very long."
The sunlight couldn't breach the curtain. It was seven in the morning, my least favorite part of the day...

As I pulled my jeans on, depression crashed down, as tons of weight, dropped on my heart.
"Why the f**k am I waking up every day, and go to s****y school?" The thoughts came, only to be replaced by heavier ones, when my father yelled up.. "Get down here you son of a b***h!"

"Awesome, he's dead drunk already." I thought, as I walked over to the door. I opened the door, and quickly walked down the stairs, just by the door, on the right. "Don't run, you damn s**t. I'll have to call an ambulance if you fall." He said. I was used to this treatment, after all, I'm nothing, and nobody, but this morning, I had the urge of killing him. He was sitting at the table, in the middle area of the kitchen, a half empty bottle of vodka in front of him, cigarette smoking in his hand. I looked in the 40 year old face, that seemed to be fifty or sixty, thanks to the nice effects of alcohol, and smoking. "Well?" He said, blowing out some smoke, through his yellow teeth, standing in his stinking mouth. "F**k you." He added. With a smile, as I walked past him, towards the wooden drawers, containing forks, spoons, and the object I seek... A knife. I opened the top drawer, and pulled out the largest knife I could find. I walked back to the table, where my damn, drunk father was sitting... Occupying the right side. I sat down, the left side, and reached for the bread, on the middle of the table. "Eat you goddamn freak." He commented, as I sliced the bread. I stared in his brown eyes, radiating stupidity, and numbness, caused by alcohol.
"What the f**k are you looking at?" He asked. I was swallowing this everyday, every goddamn morning, every night... This time it was enough... I took the black, plastic handle of the knife, stood up, and walked in front of him. I stood there awkwardly, waiting for the que, to stab him... The next thing I knew was catching his right hand, before it hit my face... I put the knifes handle in his hand, and put the blade on my throat. He stood there, unable to understand what just happened. "Do it already." I mumbled, as his hand suddenly shook, and continued shaking. I felt the cold steel, on my skin, dancing, up and down, in small steps, irritating my skin.

"What are you waiting for? Kill me already! You always say I should be dead, you beat me whenever you feel like it. Come on, finish the job!" I yelled at him, and quickly added "Next time you f**k that b***h, make sure you wear an undamaged condom."
His eyes widened as my so called mother arrived downstairs.
"You see this? He's crazy! "
He yelled, as I took a step closer, resulting in a slight scratch. "Come on daddy.. Do yourself a favor. Either cut the abuse, or do it properly! Or, do I have to finish it?" I hissed at him, between my teeth.
He dropped the knife, and pushed me away, or at least he wanted to. A strand of his black hair fell in his eyes as he landed in the chair.
"Get out of my sight!" He yelled. I went back, upstairs, not even looking at my so called mother.

"This went well... " I thought, as relief came. I shut the door behind me, walked to my desk, for the key. I took the silver looking, cold piece of metal, and went to lock the door... "You're a goddamn animal!" She yelled at him. "B***h..." I thought, as I turned the key.

Thirteen steps, to reach the computer. "Eat metal!" I thought, as I turned up the volume on the speakers, and opened the media player... "Playlist... Pokolgép."(homemade bomb, or infernal machine) I thought, as I clicked on my favorite. First song begun, drums, in violent, fast rhythm, with deep, powerful hits... Soon, the guitar screamed up, in a devilish run, as if it was chasing the drumbeat...
"Új biblia"(new Bible) the title read.
Speaking of a dying world, with humanity only pushing it further. Exactly what I felt about myself. I'm being pushed further towards a mental break down, or death, or both. I turned the volume to maximum, or just checked if it's all it got, I don't really remember. I was deep in the song... sunk down, in the familiar, cold darkness of oppression, and depression, only to sink even deeper. Next song, started... this one was my favorite, I could relate all too well to its meaning. "Aki máskép él." (Who lives differently)
A smooth, guitar play opened....
The music was pounding on the window, causing the glass to vibrate, and my head to hurt.

Soon, I found myself, sitting on the bed, singing along with the next song... "A kitaszított." (The outcast.)
It is my always reliable medicine, roaring metal... The power suddenly went out, raining silence down on me...
"Great..." I thought, as the depressing, unwanted sound of my drunk father coming up the stairs cut the silence.
Whatever my patents do, I'm safe in my comfy cage, called "my room". It's shelter, when the wildest storms rage. It's home when the world pushes me away. It's a place, that saves me, from the outside. Where I fulfill the needs of my flesh, where I sin.

"Open up yo... B*****d!" He yelled in, stumbling at the door, trying to open it. I smirked at the thought of actually opening the door. "You're gonna be late from your stupid school..." he added, with disappointment in his voice.
"Awesome! That's exactly what I'm going for!" I yelled back, as I've heard his heavy steps going back down. I looked at the curtained window, wondering about what's going on outside, while I'm sitting in here... Then again, what do I care... It's just people running 'round, trying to keep up with their s****y lives, while I'm trying to stay away from living my own s****y life...

I fell back on the bed, I sighed, attempting to force some relief on myself. Ironic, isn't it? Forcing relief... Sometimes, I surprise myself.

© 2015 Dani The Unreviewed

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Reviews

AaronFreitas

You describe a crazy, broken home full of unpredictability. The dad really is some kind of character. A morning drunk that is abusive and nuts. A passive mom that allows it to go on and a kid searching for strength and a way to survive in that environment. I enjoyed the story my friend... good work :)

Posted 8 Years Ago

ExquisiteEyes

I must say that you can express your fears and anger exceptionally well. The way of narration was gripping; it was as if I was in that position. Keep it up. I would love to read more.