Who Am I?

Chapter 1

 

                       Who Am I?

                              By Tracy Cyprus

 

I suppose that is the eternal question who are any of us? Some people choose to define their very identity by what they wear, some by what they do for a living, Some people define themselves by how much stuff they have, but I have found none of these to be very accurate for me.

 

 

I guess I should start at the beginning of my existence I was born in Lebanon Tennessee in July of 1979 to Marion and Rodger Cyprus I am an only child, and in that sense I believe I missed out on some of the most fundamental experiences of young life playing with your brother or sister in the backyard and getting into trouble to this day when I see a movie with two kids playing I get a little sad inside……..although in retrospect I suppose being who they were my parents probably made a wise decision by only having one child.I mean why be responsible for f*****g up two lives when you don’t have too?

 

My Mother Marion had a career…….once, but she felt that doing what my father wanted was more important than following through on her own dreams hopefully one day she will realize her mistake and make my father pay for it for the rest of his life instead of taking the cowards way out with passive aggressive behaviors toward the rest of the world and making me feel bad whenever I see her. Marion (as I’ve come to call her)has a very unique way of chipping at your self esteem very slowly so you don’t notice it until it’s too late, like most mothers she has a never-ending supply of back-handed and under her breathe comments she makes preceded by “I don’t mean to be rude” like that is supposed to make it alright to say whatever you want. Marion has been nothing but condescending and hateful to me since I decided I didn’t want her cutting my hair anymore at the age of 7, you know it feels a little strange having nothing nice to say about your own mother but if the hateful cow ever did something nice for me I would say so right? I mean aside from giving birth.

 

Now onto my father Rodger he is and has been a Lebanon police officer since he left the Marines in 74’he made it all the way to the rank of Lt. Colonel and then he was injured. I’m not sure how he never speaks of it ,but I’m certain it wasn’t for doing something heroic like saving a fallen comrade or anything I think he was shot for being an a*****e I know I’ve thought of doing at one time or another but there are laws against trying to kill your own father(stupid laws)my father always kept food in the house, And I suppose I should be grateful and I am because I didn’t have to worry about what I was going to eat that night.

Traditionally like any father you’ll ever see on T.V. he hated every guy I brought home and I never measured up to his expectations but then again neither did mom so I wasn’t alone on that one but at least mom had me to take her frustrations out on, and she did often. Unlike most people I don’t blame all my problems on my parents. I feel unique in that I blame a combination of things my parents only being one of them. One of the contributing factors was also the environment I was born into I went to a strict school called Cedars of Lebanon Academy it was not a very happy period in my life with the brief exception of a few friends that I’m still friends with now and the special moments we shared that will never be forgotten but more on that later, There were few if any kids in my neighborhood and my father always made it a point to say that he chose that area of town for that reason, I spent a great deal of time in my room either masturbating like a fiend or just listening to music which has always played a huge part in my life. I would dance for hours and even dance around naked like I was doing a strip tease for my lover I would bring a chair in from the dining room and just grind on it to Prince or whoever was playing on my radio.

 

 

I also throw some blame on the fact that I am a woman of stoutly build more commonly known as fat I get those genes from my mother which was also one of Rodgers favorite little digs at my expense. So of course I have body issues and I never believe I’m truly worthy of anyone’s affections, So I am constantly on the lookout for any signs that someone is trying to breakup with me so I can do the traditional “I dumped you first!” Most of my relationships end in the same way but I’ll rattle  that hornets nest later.

I guess for the most part my early years were the same as anybodies regular beatings and being yelled at by my parents and trying to form some type of Identity and get some privacy, I remember being horny from a very early age my mother caught me on my knees in the bathroom just before my first climax at the age of 10,let me explain I had finally found some friends in the immediate area and we were riding our bikes and I had one of those old school Banana Seat bikes and it rubbed my crotch in the oddest way and it felt weird but in a way it felt right too and I just remember wanting to stay on that seat forever and I was going down this really bumpy hill and I thought I was going to explode I just felt like screaming and then I had to go home I had to see if I could keep this feeling going forever and then when I got home I noticed I had stained the crotch of my shorts and they were white so it was very noticeable I ran into the bathroom as fast as I could and stripped down to nothing but my Reeboks and started playing with myself like I was insane and I just knew something good was going to happen if I kept it up and just before I had my first orgasm my mother opens the door and by the way this is same woman who would beat me if I thought about opening the door without knocking, anyway she opens the door and I am frozen in place with a pre-pubescent clear liquid running down my inner thigh and my hand in my crotch she just stares at me and then walks in and proceeds to punch and slap me while I’m still on my knees and doesn’t close the door until she bloodied my f*****g noise and my back and shoulders are red and then she runs a tub full of scalding hot water and drops me into it and then proceeded to scrub me all over until my skin was raw while reciting passages from the bible, So yeah that was fun. I think everyone remembers that first monumental a*s wiping you got from your folks my mom never told my father about it and to my knowledge he still doesn’t know. Hey I think I just figured out what my mom did that was nice she kept dad from killing me!

Author's Note

Ignore Grammar and Punctuation

Reviews

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Disclaimer - Look. This crit doesn't come from a book critic or an editor or even a guy who ever got an "A" in English. So if my crit isn't as glowing as you would hope, you would be well within your rights (and probably correct) in saying "What the heck does that snook know? He's no expert." I can occasionally be helpful by finding typos for you or that one sentence that doesn't read quite right. But please take my crit for what it is ... just one guys opinion.

Spelling & Grammar Nitpicks:
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Unless I missed a period, This ...

Now onto my father Rodger he is and has been a Lebanon police officer since he left the Marines in 74'he made it all the way to the rank of Lt. Colonel and then he was injured I'm not sure how he never spoke of it but I'm certain it wasn't for doing something heroic like saving a fallen comrade or anything I think he was shot for being an a*****e I know I've thought of doing at one time or another but there are laws against trying to kill your own father(stupid laws)my father always kept food in the house, And I suppose I should be grateful and I am because I didn't have to worry about where I was going to sleep that night.

... is one sentence. My guess is that you might have forgotten to put in a period or two. I know how it feels when you get on a roll. 'Tis understandable. My guess is that you also wanted the word "it" in there after the word "doing".

I don't think that beyond those notes, I'm qualified to comment. I don't know you or your parents or Sarah. Your style is biting and being an upbeat person, biting is hard for me to understand. That doesn't mean it's not good or is good, just mean's I'm a tad naive to understand your style fully.

I do hope that your story has a happy ending though.

P.S. - There were times that I'd have given a kidney to be an only child