Sunday, June 17, 2007 1:36 PM
17th june 2007.Day sixty five.
three whole mintues of his abuse. three whole mintues that i had to endure before he left in a huff. a kid full of pent up anger with nowhere else to vent on, turns onto the only one there who isnt allowed to turn on him. and that fool was me.
we were all in the room. (i was used to having my privacy invaded every now and then) he would bang on the door and let himself through even before i could say anything. he didnt understand why he couldnt go into my room after repeated countless warnings by his mom. everything in this house was under his control without the exception of my room.
there he was listening to his radio that he just bought two days ago. he needed help to fit in the muffs over the earphones. i helped him. she was on the bed hugging on my pillow. everything seemed normal. everything was fine before i stepped out of the room to do my washing.
they were supposed to go out shopping. i was supposed to have my peace from the moment they left my room to get changed. but he didnt want to. something had cropped up after he left my room to get changed. he got angry. he was fed up with something that i was oblivious about.
i stood there by the basin, washing my clothes, when he stomped in without warning. that frown upon his face. i should have known better. i kept quiet. i knew something wasnt right. it wasnt him to sulk at all. in his hands he held his socks.
'amanda! it's not fair.'
'what's not fair?'
'it's just not fair!'
'what isn't fair at all?'
i was clueless on everything. i couldnt hear him well. i had my earphones on.
'it's just not fair!'
he didnt want to say further when i asked him what went wrong. so i returned back to my washing.
he plonked himself down behind me. he pulled his socks in his pent up frustration of not having anyone to muck over him and ask him 'oh why, what happened?' and shower him all over with love and affection. his mom left him alone. his random trantrums were often left ignored by the elders.
he started to slap himself with the socks. i couldnt hear over my earphones. but i sensed something was amiss when he sat himself down while the rest got ready to go out. i turned around and looked at him with that concern , which was all going to be wasted on him sooner or later. i went back to my washing.
i felt a tug against my jeans. it wasnt someone pulling it. instead it was the pair of socks that slapped agaist me from which he held in his palms. somehow, he grew bored of toturing himself because of his anger and decided to take it out on someone else. and that someone else was me. he did it a few more times. he used his socks and slapped them against my jeans. (i was glad i wore jeans- it didnt hurt as much) he seemed to enjoy venting his anger through physical hurt on someone else who couldnt do much against him, since that someone else had no right to.
i ignored his trantrum. since it didnt affect my washing, i left him alone to continue. she came outside the corridor and sat down, wore her socks and looked at him. he got angrier. i sensed it all started out with her. he stood up abruptly, sulked even more and stamped his feet against the cold hard tiles on the floor.
'why amanda why!'
'it's just not fair!'
'i still dont get you. what's not fair?'
he started to slap me. (dont worry- its with his socks) though there were a couple of times, he hit me with his own bare hands and even threatened to slap me across my face. now, the only one i would ever allow to slap me across my face was my mum, not him.
it didnt hurt much so i continued with washing and ignored him. he figured that if he wanted to get my attention, the only way was to slap with a greater deal of force. and he did. his slaps got more frequent and harder till it hurt. eventhough it was a pair of socks he was using to slap you, it serves the same function as a whip would or a belt.
i bit my lips. it hurt. hell it does. i just didnt want to show it on my face. i didnt want to show him i was at his mercy all the same- since everyone else in the family has already been at his mercy when it comes to his tantrums, no one. not even his own mom was able to control him. now you get as to why she told me to just leave him alone to fuss over his problems ( since she already gave up on him). nothing she did, not even her warnings, was able to hold that reign over him. when he was upset or angry, everything is under is control- he owns it. its like anything that goes against him, faces his wrath and anger. and i tell you, you'll be smart enough not to argue with him if you know what's good for you.
he continued his tantrum since i wasnt showing any signs towards him. he wanted my attention away from washing and he was going to get it even if it means giving it all his force. there and then, i just wished someone, or anyone would come in or walk past, and tell him to stop. no one came. she just sat outside the door and watched me get struck from behind. she couldnt do anything either. he'll just ask her to SHUT UP! and get lost or i'll slap you also. it was the same treatment even to his grandma. i couldnt even imagine myself shouting verbal abuses to my own grandma. and somehow everyone here just brushes off all his verbal abuses like though it didnt hurt their inner feelings.
i come home everyday to face his verbal abuses. i have never been condemned so much in my life before. it was as though my life wasnt worth anything to him at all.
GO AND DIE!
everything that comes out of his mouth somehow has the words die inside or if not KILL. its either, 'you better do this for me, if not you DIE!' or 'you better give me ten bucks, or DIE!'
i have been cursed for life. stained by his words. my life has been condemned to a death just by the mere words of an eight year old. it was as though my life held no meaning and it was just better if i hit the grave. if it pleases him. then, he wouldnt have to ask me to die anymore. since ive fufilled that last wish of his. why cant i die? i cant. i have people back home wanting me to come back in a full piece. i cant die, not when i have others counting on me to pull through. but i cant help the fact that if i have been cursed by someone, something along those lines that ive been cursed upon would actually happen to me.
it hurt so much that i nearly lost it.
'jason, could you stop it?'
'why!'
'it really hurts okay.'
'so...'
i give up. i took my clothes and went outside. i didnt want to involve myself any longer.
