every day. I hated living like that,
the fear, anxiety and hatred that plagued me every day was too
overwhelming.
I had to start over
somehow, had to learn that the things that had happened to me were
in no way my fault. But how could I do it? I didn’t want to face it
all again, it was too damn painful.
I found myself not doing
what I came here to do, what was instructed of me to complete. It
was supposed to be simple, get in, clean the shit up and get the
hell out. I was dragging my feet around and hoping things would
just fix themselves.
I was yet again pissed and
hurt that my mother asked this of me. Why would she subject me to
face everything that had torn me apart? Was she that much of a
sadist that even in her death she expected me to suffer? Of course
it wasn’t her fault what my father did to me, but still she should
have protected me.
I needed to get out again,
I let the dreary mood of the house engulf my life, and all I could
think was to escape. So I did. I peeled myself from the bathroom,
threw on some clothes and headed out. No destination in sight, I
just needed to leave. I drove through the small town once more and
somehow found myself at the entrance to the local cemetery. What the hell was I
doing here?
I distanced the past so
well that when my mother passed away, I didn’t bother to attend her
funeral. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but I was in no shape
to bring myself back here. The emotional torment was just too
painful.
I parked the car beside of
the road that led into the graveyard, and mechanically got out.
Something was leading me here, although I wasn’t sure just
what.
It took some time, but
after traipsing and searching through the various headstones, I
finally found where my mother and father were laid to rest. I could
see our family name on the back of the stone as I approached and my
insides began to form a knot.
I stood there for an
instant, trying to decide if I should step around the front and
take a look. My curiosity got the best of me, so I rounded the
headstone and saw where my parents were buried.
What I was looking at
shocked me. There was my mother’s name, birthdate, and the day she
died…but my fathers’ were nowhere to be seen on the marker. What the hell was going
on?
I turned around to make
sure there wasn’t a headstone that maybe I overlooked, and of
course there was nothing. I knew they were to be laid to rest
together, so looking down and not seeing my fathers’ name inscribed
there was baffling. I didn’t attend his funeral either, why would
I? Something wasn’t right, and I felt chill bumps run up my spine.
In my gut I knew there was something someone wasn’t telling
me.
Where fuck was my bastard
father?
Fifteen
Tyler knew it was stupid
to find himself at the cemetery where his wife and child were
buried, but he went anyway. The fact of the matter was, the child
probably wasn’t even his anyway, but he mourned the loss just the
same. How could he not? It was a tragedy either way. No one should
have to endure the loss of a child, no matter who it belonged to.
He hadn’t been back here since he returned home from overseas, and
he felt the sting of heartbreak as soon as he stepped foot on the
hallowed ground.
He knew where they were
located, and so he trudged to the site, flowers in hand. His wife
was always so fond of white roses and those were the ones he
decided to bring with him to honor her memory. As pissed as he was
about her betrayal, he couldn’t bring himself to forget the good
times that they shared over the years.
Tyler lowered his head
when he came to the spot where they were laid to rest. It was a
somber moment, and he had to stop himself from letting the tears
release that he held on to for so long now.
His life had taken so many
twists and turns lately that his head was spinning like a child’s
toy top. The world had handed him a pile of shit on a platter and
expected him to grin and bear it. He just wasn’t built
the fear, anxiety and hatred that plagued me every day was too
overwhelming.
I had to start over
somehow, had to learn that the things that had happened to me were
in no way my fault. But how could I do it? I didn’t want to face it
all again, it was too damn painful.
I found myself not doing
what I came here to do, what was instructed of me to complete. It
was supposed to be simple, get in, clean the shit up and get the
hell out. I was dragging my feet around and hoping things would
just fix themselves.
I was yet again pissed and
hurt that my mother asked this of me. Why would she subject me to
face everything that had torn me apart? Was she that much of a
sadist that even in her death she expected me to suffer? Of course
it wasn’t her fault what my father did to me, but still she should
have protected me.
I needed to get out again,
I let the dreary mood of the house engulf my life, and all I could
think was to escape. So I did. I peeled myself from the bathroom,
threw on some clothes and headed out. No destination in sight, I
just needed to leave. I drove through the small town once more and
somehow found myself at the entrance to the local cemetery. What the hell was I
doing here?
I distanced the past so
well that when my mother passed away, I didn’t bother to attend her
funeral. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but I was in no shape
to bring myself back here. The emotional torment was just too
painful.
I parked the car beside of
the road that led into the graveyard, and mechanically got out.
Something was leading me here, although I wasn’t sure just
what.
It took some time, but
after traipsing and searching through the various headstones, I
finally found where my mother and father were laid to rest. I could
see our family name on the back of the stone as I approached and my
insides began to form a knot.
I stood there for an
instant, trying to decide if I should step around the front and
take a look. My curiosity got the best of me, so I rounded the
headstone and saw where my parents were buried.
What I was looking at
shocked me. There was my mother’s name, birthdate, and the day she
died…but my fathers’ were nowhere to be seen on the marker. What the hell was going
on?
I turned around to make
sure there wasn’t a headstone that maybe I overlooked, and of
course there was nothing. I knew they were to be laid to rest
together, so looking down and not seeing my fathers’ name inscribed
there was baffling. I didn’t attend his funeral either, why would
I? Something wasn’t right, and I felt chill bumps run up my spine.
In my gut I knew there was something someone wasn’t telling
me.
Where fuck was my bastard
father?
Fifteen
Tyler knew it was stupid
to find himself at the cemetery where his wife and child were
buried, but he went anyway. The fact of the matter was, the child
probably wasn’t even his anyway, but he mourned the loss just the
same. How could he not? It was a tragedy either way. No one should
have to endure the loss of a child, no matter who it belonged to.
He hadn’t been back here since he returned home from overseas, and
he felt the sting of heartbreak as soon as he stepped foot on the
hallowed ground.
He knew where they were
located, and so he trudged to the site, flowers in hand. His wife
was always so fond of white roses and those were the ones he
decided to bring with him to honor her memory. As pissed as he was
about her betrayal, he couldn’t bring himself to forget the good
times that they shared over the years.
Tyler lowered his head
when he came to the spot where they were laid to rest. It was a
somber moment, and he had to stop himself from letting the tears
release that he held on to for so long now.
His life had taken so many
twists and turns lately that his head was spinning like a child’s
toy top. The world had handed him a pile of shit on a platter and
expected him to grin and bear it. He just wasn’t built
Similar Books
