A Son's Trauma

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The traumatic relationship between a father and son.

Submitted: November 10, 2011

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Submitted: November 10, 2011

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I heard the door open and some one stumbled into the house. I looked at the clock it was around three in the morning. ‘JOSH!’ He shouted. It was my Dad. There was a muffle of words I couldn’t understand. I went out of my bedroom and peered over the banister. I saw Dad struggling to walk down the hallway. He had a bottle of whisky in one hand; he was spilling it as he tried to walk steadily. I rolled my eyes to myself. Typical I thought, he was completely pissed. I went back to my room and locked the door; Dad can get angry when he’s drunk. It gives me a sense of security to have the door locked. About two years ago Dad started getting angry and regularly getting drunk. He came into my room a few times and swore and beat me. So I got the lock. He used to hurt my mum too. I heard them argue and she would scream a lot.

I tried to finish my homework. I really should have done it a few hours ago but I wasn’t in the mood, so I watched TV. But I had better do it if I don’t want another detention.  At four I scribbled a quick conclusion for my essay.  I was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep. I checked the lock was completely bolted and went to bed. 

I woke up, damn it I overslept. I got dressed immediately, grabbed my bag and raced down the stairs. I saw Dad snoring on the sofa with the whisky spilt all over the floor. To be honest I couldn’t care less, I didn’t expect him to be there to make me breakfast and give me lunch. I left the house and ran to school.  By the time I got there I was worn out, I wondered why I ran, I was late already, I might aswell have walked. I strolled into Maths I told the teacher that I was at the dentist she nodded she told me to get on with the work. I’m in the bottom set, half the class usually skive as they couldn’t care less about school. But I really do try to do well at school and I don’t understand why I do so badly. School went by slowly, I got visited by a teacher about where I was this morning. I tried the same excuse but I don’t think she believed me, she said she would phone home. No one would be there anyway, Dad should be at work but probably is hung over on the sofa and won’t bother picking up the phone.

After school I went to my friend Ava’s house, we’ve been friends since I started secondary school, she helps me with my homework and to revise; but we easily get distracted and go out into town. I wanted to stay round Ava’s as long as possible before going home. I always went round Ava’s and I would never let her come to mine. Once she came to the house a year ago, but that was when mum was around and luckily Dad was actually working. I miss my mum; she died of an overdose of heroin. People think she was some messed up junkie, but she wasn’t. When Dad started getting unbalanced, mum couldn’t take it and used drugs as an escape. I told Ava everything, she understood, no one else did. It was nine thirty, I left Ava’s and I started to walk home. It was black outside, I only had street lights to lead me home. It was freezing and I didn’t have a coat.

I went into the house; I would never call it home. Dad was there, I was hoping he would be out. I started to pace up the stairs but then Dad Shouted ‘OI! I got a phone call from your school, it woke me up.’ I turned ignoring him. But he grabbed my arm and dragged me off the stairs. There were empty beer cans all over the place. And white powder smeared on the table. Wasn’t hard to guess what that was. He started swearing and calling me useless and pathetic. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was extremely angry. I tried to move but he had me pinned against the wall. Then he hit me right in the face. I was dazed for a second, nearly falling to the floor. But Dad is very strong and kept me up straight. He was still yelling at me. Then everything came back, I could feel throbbing in my head. I felt something run down my face and into my mouth. Blood. He gave the impression of hitting me again, but then the door bell rang. I collapsed to the ground holding my head in my hands. I was terrified, I could not hide my fear from him, tears streamed from my eyes. He went over to the door, I heard it creak open. ‘Hi. I have Josh’s text book thought he might need it to revise.’ Oh no I got up as quickly as I could and staggered to the door. Ava saw me and pushed passed my Dad and came in to the house, ‘What happened to your head?’ She asked worriedly, looking awfully concerned. ‘Please get out!’ I begged her. She seemed confused. Dad slammed the front door. ‘Who’s this then? Your girlfriend?’ He sniggered. He went on another screeching rant at me. But Ava told him to leave me alone and tried to tell him to back off. Bad move, I went and pulled her away and stood in front of her, trying to protect her from the maniac. Dad was fuming, then it came, thump. Again and again and again he hit me.

I woke up to a bright light. I felt pain all over me. ‘Hi Josh I’m a doctor, you’re in hospital.’ His face was blurry, slowly my vision came back. I turned my head to look around, I felt shattered. There was a trolley next to me on it was Ava, I could see a bandage on her head, she was sleeping peacefully. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, I wanted to go to her but there was no energy in me. I closed my eyes and was swallowed up into a deep sleep.

 

 

 


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