Testing The Boundaries part 2

Chapter 56-1

Testing The Boundaries

Part 2

 

Dad gave the lesson and ending it with me reading my oral report that I hadn’t spent a lot of time on, and was hoping that he would have forgotten all about it. I should have known better as I ran and got it. Dad still commenting that he didn’t think I had any musical talent. Grandma was proud as punch spilling all my secrets saying she was really having a great time and this was the highlight of her day. Well at least someone was happy.

My report was short and sweet, but good enough to pass Dads approval which matters the most. Grandma stating that she finds it refreshing to hear that Dad requires each of their children to do this. Saying she wished she did it when she was raising her kids and might have made a difference with my father. Dad didn’t say anything except to say he has never meet two people that were so bent on hurting their own children instead of providing a home with love and strong discipline or in his case a firm hand and staying true to the gospel. However, he didn’t say what kind of man he truly is when he’s not in the public’s eye.

I hated to see my grandma leave in fact it terrified me knowing that she was leaving me with parents worst than my own. But I refused to cry even though it broke my heart I refused to show any emotion. Yet once again my heart betrays me when she hugs me and the tears flow down my cheeks feeling my heart burst. I couldn’t speak because I couldn’t trust my voice when she told me to be good and do what I am told and how much she loved me. I whispered I loved her too as she too wiped her eyes and left me as I watched them drive away.

When I had control over my self Dad and Mom wanted to speak to me privately regarding her being with me in the hospital. Wanting to know why I didn’t tell them she was my grandmother. I said “I promised her that I wouldn’t and so did brother Nile's and Bishop Lanwall,” Dad growled angrily asking if I told her the truth and them what truly happened. I again I said. “I promised that I wouldn’t Dad and so far I have kept that promises.” Dad couldn’t tell if I was lying considering. Family Services and everyone else had suspicions. Dad warned me if I was lying he would throw me down in that basement and never let me out. I nodded stating I was telling the truth.

When Dad and Mom were satisfied Dad called Shane telling him to make sure I clean myself really, really good or he would pay the consequences. For a minute I thought that meant the scrub brush, but Shane simply had me climb in the tub and washed my hair and back, letting me do everything else. I had learned that Kelly had tried to run away during the week and had tried to remove his ankle monitor. It was all out manhunt and was caught robbing a liquor store and tried to get on a bus with a pocket full of stolen cash. One of the reasons Dad agreed to extend my visit. The way Shane said it I was getting off easy compared to him. Then laughed stating he should have seen the resemblance after meeting my father, it was clear as a bell that she was my grandmother.

I said. “Sorry, we had to keep it a secret knowing how Dad and Mom felt about me having any contact with anyone including her.” So I explained giving the same story grandma gave Dad in better detail, considering I trusted Shane more than Dad and Mom, he has yet to rat me out. As the saying goes; ‘what Dad doesn’t know is not going to hurt him.’ Shane dried me off and I got ready for family prayer and Mom made sure that I drank the full amount of the sleeping tonic while Shane and I did my breathing exercises. Like I said sometimes it doesn’t work.

My first night back it stormed with a vengeance. The wind howled and lightning crackled as it tore through the sky. The first image I saw was my father standing over me with his belt in his hand. I had reached out trying to roll way so the belt wouldn’t hit me. But I couldn’t move feeling the ropes around my feet and hands. I felt my father on top of me trying to strangle me with the belt around my neck.

I bucked and screamed as I rolled further away from him; only to run into my mother holding a kitchen knife that was dripping with blood. The bulb flickered as I felt something wet and sticky when I looked again I saw my brother dead with his throat cut wide opened. I kept saying it’s not real; it’s not real. Trying to take deep breaths. But my mother struck slapping my face asking. “Does this feel real or this?” Slashing my wrist and my ankles above the ropes; I screamed as I felt and saw the warm blood trickle down my hands and feet; my father choking me tighter with the belt; lifting me in the air as I tried to kick him so he’d drop me.

My mother laughed seeing me dangling in the air. Calling me a spineless coward and banged my head against the cement wall. I could feel my body crumpled to the floor while the sweet darkness covers me as lay dying on the ground. But I wasn’t done yet seeing the knife lying next to me. I grabbed it and rolling and kicking them every time they kept coming; ignoring the belt while I freed myself yelling. “Its time to die,” slashing them as they came closer. I tripped over my dead brother seeing the knife fly out of my hands. I watched my father pick it up and I kicked him just below his knee. Grabbed the knife and went after him, only to be hit over the head as I fell to the ground.

This time I couldn’t move I was stunned and my body refused to move. I could feel my ankles and hands being tied behind my back. I couldn’t see but the darkness all around me, I tried to move, but I was able to I roll, only to be stopped feeling my chest being sliced in several places from the sharp glass that must have broken from the bulb above me. I yelled cowards only to be knocked out over the head.

I couldn’t figure out why I could only see darkness and my parents could see me. It was too late as I surrendered to my fate. Letting sweet death take me, hoping to join my brother, but there was nothing but darkness and movement around me. But I couldn’t see as I called out and got no answer. It seemed forever before I heard voices screaming, begging me to wake up, but all I could do is lie there bleeding; feeling deaths hand touching mine. Something flashed in front of my eyes, and then there was silence, complete silence. I breathed deeply praying to god to please let me die.

When I woke I was laying in the hospital bed tied down and my wrist, ankles, and chest covered in bandages. Mom was shaking me begging me to wake up. I groaned as the pain and reality hit me. I tried to speak, but my voice was hoarse, and I could feel gaze wrapped around my neck. I tried again Mom heard me thanking God that I was finally awake. I could see daylight streaming through the windows. My eyes wandered to the clock in the middle of the room; reading it was 10 am. I closed my eyes whispering not again, letting the tears of pain and disappointment run down my cheeks. I opened them feeling someone take my other hand seeing grandma and Dad right behind her.

The slightest movements made me want to scream Mom asking me over and over again for me to repeat my safe words. When I did, Mom flung herself over me as I screamed in pain. But she didn’t let go as she cried against my shoulder saying over and over. “You almost died, you almost died and we couldn’t wake you.”

I closed my eyes trying to comprehend what I had done, but all I could think about was my parents and that cursed basement. I opened my eyes hearing new voices and one of them was my brother. I felt his small body leap across the bed telling me that I wasn’t allowed to leave him; not now not ever. His wet tears falling on my bare chest that wasn’t covered with bandages; it hurt just to breathe as I groaned unable to move.  Shane was in the next bed sitting up telling me this wasn’t what he had in mind when he crawled in bed with me. Seeing the bandaged wrapped around his chest and several cuts on his face and arms.

I had learned that somehow I had rolled out of bed and ran around like a crazy man throwing things at my parent’s phantoms; sometimes protecting my self and other time harming my self as if I was possessed by demons. During my rage consumed dream, I had found a knife that was left in the sink from desert used to cut the cake. Mom and Dad thinking the sleeping aid would knock me out cold and I wouldn’t hear the storm and thinking I would be completely safe and sleeping soundly. Instead, I was lashing out at my parent’s phantoms trying to kill them for killing my brother.

It took two tranquilizers to knock me out before they got me to the hospital and three more before they strapped me down taking a scalpel off the cart and tried to kill my phantoms right were I had left off. Dad was wounded, but Shane got it the worst. Not to mention the mess I had left in my wake at home and in the emergency room before they could contain me.

I had two needles one in each arm. One for the IV and drugs and the other for replacing the blood I had lost. Which in itself was an irony considering they usually take my blood, not give it back  Have I told you how much I hated hospitals? It seemed I had my own suite waiting on stand by even though my name wasn’t engraved above my bed, but it should have been.

I had cut deep enough this time on my wrist to become fatal, requiring fifteen stitches on one side and twenty smaller stitches on the other having to repair the artery so it would stop bleeding out. My chest, legs, feet, and ankles were covered with similar cuts, but my ankles were the worst.  Lest not forget the gaze around my throat where I had tried to strangle my self with belt nearly crashing my windpipe and multiple cuts all over my face. In all said and done I looked like had gone through a meat grinder.

All said and done I was a mess and practically wrapped like a mummy. It wasn’t a long stay in this fine hotel, but Shane got out before I did, while they spent more time trying to find better drugs that would knock me out so I could sleep soundly. So once more I became the lab rat, having to be strapped down each time they knocked me out only to reawaken into night terror soon after.

No one likes to talk about their dreams that they feared the worst. But during my stay Mom, Dad and my shrink would have me write them down in as much detail that I could remember. Then they have me retell it as I read what I had written; mostly because of my poor penmanship, but did help a little.

Dad had pretty much had given up the idea of me going down to the basement each time I had night terror; and when he did. It brought on a storm classified episode having to tranquilize me twice within minutes before it escalated beyond anyone’s control. His theory was that if I could see beyond the dream as he did with the hot box to get me over the fear of being locked inside a dark closet; which I still have nightmares about and only made things worst when it came to trusting him. The main idea was, that not all basements are the same nor are they the church basement where my parents did all their worst atrocities to me and my brother. Aaron himself at the time was having the same problem; having to see a child psychologist like me because of it.

My old room became permanent with Shane to watch over me. Dad had set up a speaker and doorbell that would ring loud enough to wake the dead from their graves: when Shane needed help during a storm class episode which happened often enough that we were beginning to wonder if it would ever be curable. Because it happened so often regardless if there was a bad storm, but being in my safe room prevented me from doing serious damage to my self and the house. Even though my room was nearly torn apart during a storm class episode; Shane and I walked away with only fresh bruises.

Because of what happened at Thanksgiving my home visit was canceled or delayed. Grandma and my Aunt Lizzy came to me instead to pick me up after Christmas so they could spend time with me and my brother, which turned out to be a better solution all around. One I didn’t have to face my parents and two I didn’t have to prove anything to my relatives who were mostly clueless didn’t even notice I was missing. I should note that it was the first time I had ever seen a real flock tree that was absolutely perfect in every way. Plus it gave grandma and my aunt a chance to hear me play the piano. I still don’t know how I was able to fit it in, but I practiced an hour every day.

I can say this Dad and Mom kept their word regarding my new chores and hobbies. I spent more time with the Dads horse then he did or anyone else’s. That he was practically mine and would come when to me the seconded he noticed me.  Dad, on the other hand, became ignored and always ended up chasing him so he could ride him; wondering what I did differently then he did. Even the neighbor’s chickens and roosters had a more liking to me than their owners. I would just smile as Dad watched them curl up in my lap like a pet dog or cat begging me to pet them. I wish I could have kept the pictures as Mom strung them all over the house.

Dad would have never believed it, but the proof was on the wall; and several times he and I would have to walk neighbor’s cats, dogs and other farm life home, wondering how they got out in the first place. Mom’s two favorite pictures were me walking home shirtless and barefoot with two cows and a rooster trailing behind me. The other was having me surrounded with grazing sheep with two lambs sitting in my lap and a sheepdog on the other side of me resting his head on my leg. Dad’s favorite was of me riding his horse bareback in nothing but my boxers. Grandma loved them all she couldn’t pick a favorite. She would ask for a copy, but to this very day, I don’t know if she got them.