Parenting Is Hard 2: Parenting Harder
Jan 27, 2023 10:30:03 GMT -5
Marcus Welsh, Thunder Knuckles, and 1 more like this
Post by Crash Rodriguez on Jan 27, 2023 10:30:03 GMT -5
"What happened, kid?"
Lou's voice is barely able to break through my son's wailing. My eyes bounce from Bash's face to my hand and back again.
"Crash… What happened? Talk to me."
I open my mouth but my words get caught in my throat. My insides get weak from the shame. I feel the tears building in the corner of my eye, my lower lip dropping to a pathetic quiver. I turn my attention to my son as he is being lifted into Lou's arms.
"Hey… Kid, relax. Everything is gonna be okay.”
It doesn't feel like it. Nothing feels very 'okay' about this situation. Lou goes to say something else, before being cut off by another high pitch screeching as my son continues to sob and cry in his arms. I look towards my window, catching my own reflection. My stomach starts tieing itself into knots, as Lou tries shushing and bouncing Bash.
"I gotta go."
The words leave my mouth in a panic, as I rush out of my room. I hurry down the stairs, the tears finally making their way down my cheek as I reach the bottom. I yank the front door in a hurry, and damn near jump down the stairs of my front porch, as I make a beeline for Lou’s Minibus. The scene of me slapping my boy replays in my head as I pull on the handle rapidly, but to no avail.
“Since when does he lock the fucking thing!”
I press my forehead against the glass and begin to let it out. My heavy sobbing is the only sound to pierce the otherwise peaceful night. I slap myself across the cheek a few times. Slowly I start to calm down but I notice my reflection in the driver side window. For a moment, nearly a split second, I see my father in my face.
“FUCK YOU!”
My fists go through the glass, shattering it into pieces.
“What the absolute fuck are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you! You need to chill-“
I look up at the porch, where Lou stands dumbfounded.
“Give me the keys, Lou.”
“Not until you expla-“
“GIVE ME THE FUCKING KEYS!”
Lou stands still for only a moment, before he tosses the keys through the air and into my hand. Before I know it the keys are in the ignition and I’m barrelling down the road, no attention paid to the speed limit. Each time I reflect on what happened, feelings of disgust, anger, shame and heartbreak rise to the top. Before I know it, I’m stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. Seconds feel like minutes, as the red glare casts its dim glow through the windshield. I watch it patiently, ready to stomp on the pedal the second it turns green. My eyelids feel like boulders from both the lack of sleep and my silent crying. I close them for a second and that’s all it takes for me to drift away into my dreams.
~~~~~
Sweat drips from my brow, puddling beneath my feet as I pant heavily. I feel my heart racing, nearly jumping out of my chest with each labored breath. Each hand gripping onto burlap sacks filled with rocks, extended as far above my head as I can muster. I hear footsteps slowly approach, but I keep my vision to the ground, doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact.
“You look like you are struggling, mijo…”
My jaw clenches and I feel the vein in my forehead begin to bulge.
“Look at me.”
At first I ignore him, determined to carry any hint of defiance I can. It lasts only a second though, after all I'll be better off if I do what he says. As soon as my eyes meet his, his demeanor goes from jovial to angry.
“Don't you dare give me that face.”
His hand claps against my jaw, knocking me back and causing me to drop the weight. This only upsets him more as he doubles me over with a stiff punch to the center of my chest. I double over, fighting back the vomit making its way up my throat. I fall to my hands and knees on the harsh concrete below.
“Stop being a little pussy.”
~~~~~
The car behind me sounds its horn, jolting me awake. I shake away some of the grogginess as I continue my drive. It doesn't take long before I reach my destination. I turn into the parking lot and shut off the engine. I go to get out, my fingers wrapped around the handle, but something keeps me in the driver seat.
“You can do this… Just, take a second to compose yourself… Stop being a little pussy and get out of the car…”
I take a deep breath, as I step out of the car and make my way down a winding dirt path. I look over my shoulder at the cars as they pass by their headlights barely illuminating the area around me for small spurts of time. With each step, memories once again replace my consciousness.
~~~~~
My sister Carmen pulls the ice pack off of my face, giving my face a glance.
“Thats a lot of blood Char-“
“There’s always a lot of blood, Carmie.”
Carmen crosses her arms and gives me an angry pout.
“Do not interrupt me.”
I let out a chuckle that in turn sends a sharp pain into my sides. I wrap my arms around myself, trying my damndest to push through the pain.
“Do you ever miss America?”
“Every waking moment of my life. Back then there was no dad. Nobody to torture and abuse me in the name of making me a champion. Nobody treating me like some kind of animal. I’d give anything in the world to go back to how things used to be.”
I look at my sister, her face hardly holding back the pain she feels. She loves me to death, and has since the day I showed up in this hellhole. Since day one she was the only one who seemed to accept me. Not our dad, not her mom, not our older sisters… Just her.
“I love you, Carmie… It's just that… Beyond anything I miss my mom.”
“You don't talk about her much. What was she like?”
“She was… I don’t know… She was my mom. She was overbearing sometimes, and embarrassing and tried too hard… but that’s because she cared… because she loved me. She was so full of warmth and love. I’d lash out and she’d just hold me and talk to me.”
Through puffy eyes I begin to cry.
“My uncle Dan used to tell me this story from when I was really little. He’d tell me how she’d come home from her 2nd job.”
“Your mom had 2 jobs?”
“Mom always felt I deserved the world. So she worked to afford it. Now back to the story.”
“Ok sorry, go on, go on!”
My sister listens excitedly, while I feel a smile fill my face.
~~~~~
“When I was really little you would come home exhausted. Uncle Dan would tell me how he was supposed to keep me awake while she was at work so you could sleep with me after work…”
I shuffle between my feet, the wet dirt sticking to the bottom of my boots. I place my hand on the stone slab before me, reading the nameplate of my late mother.
“But of course, you know how Danny was, he’d put me to sleep and watch his ‘wrasslin’. Still you’d come home and curl up into bed with me but you’d barely get a wink in before I’d wake up. Dan would tell me stories of how he’d come bolting into the room after hearing my tantrums, only to find me pulling your hair or punching and kicking at you as you tried singing to me. He’d say ‘music aint soothing that beast’ and you’d just smile and say ‘My boy just needs more love then’…”
My hands ball into fists as the waterworks come out in full effect. I hear myself sobbing, as I try to get through each word.
“Today I was in a similar moment… and I didn’t show my son love. I slapped him. You’d be so ashamed of me, mama. I love him, I really do… but I hit him. Today I realized that maybe I’m too much like dad. Maybe all I’m going to do is mess this kid up and ruin his whole fucking life. Turn him into whatever mess he’s made me into…”
“You are not a mess, mijo…”
My whole body goes cold, as my back goes stiff. I turn towards the source and find myself staring at my father.
“What the fuck are you doing here!”
Before I know it my hands are wrapped around his throat.
“You’re not allowed to be here! You never loved me, you never loved her. You’re not welcome here.”
I watch him struggle and gasp for air as my hands slowly begin to block his windpipe. He starts speaking with the little bits of oxygen he’s able to pull in.
“I… Followed… I am… Sorry…”
Time is still for a moment. I take in every last detail of his suffocating face, before letting him go. He's sorry. He’s sorry?
“After all these years, now you're sorry? Now that you’re about to die, you’re sorry?”
“I’ve always been sorry, mijo. I did what I thought was best… Always. I wanted you to be tough. To be strong!”
“You made me weak, you piece of shit! I’m a goddamn mess because of all the shit you put me through!”
“You’re not a mess… You're a survivor. Yes, you went through pain. Yes, I hurt you. But look at you now. You’re strong! You are former champion. You are FUTURE champion. That girl, what is her name, Sarah Dukie? She is, how you say, spoiled. Everything handed to her because of big whopping titties. But you. You fight for it. You bleed for what is yours.”
“You think I need your fucking pep talk? I know I’m going to beat Sahara. Me walking out Paradigm Champion at Decadence is a no brainer, which is just enough for Sahara to even realize. She’s too busy playing naked football, filming shit movies nobody ever watches and sucking off whatever dick she can just to remain relevant. Meanwhile 100 percent of my energy had been put into that fucking ring, and my name is on the tips of every tongue talking about the next big thing. People have slept on me for 3 fucking years! Firings, purges, and companies closing without any notice! THAT ENDS! Call this my time or whatever you fucking want, but at the end of the day it’s fucking simple. From the Paradigm title to the World title and all the way down to whatever backyard bullshit title Zybala can come up with. IT’S ALL FUCKING MINE!”
My father smiles at me for what is perhaps the first time. His face radiating pride.
“All my fucking life I’ve felt like I was a problem. Like something was wrong with me. But when I see Sahara, I honestly feel better about myself. So insecure about themselves they blabber about how great they are and try to ignore the long list of flaws and losses. Clinging to her name like it has any real weight to it, meanwhile all of us know exactly what a Duke does… Half-ass work until they decide to leave when things stop going their way. So I hope the world is ready, because while I’m leaving Decadence as Paradigm champion… Sahara will leave and follow her husband out of this company like the pathetic blood and cock sucking parasite she is.”
“That’s my boy.”
My dad’s expression of joy brings a smile to my face as, for the first time in my life, I feel accepted by him. He rests his hand on my shoulder, and for a second I let it rest there before pulling him in for a hug.
Lou's voice is barely able to break through my son's wailing. My eyes bounce from Bash's face to my hand and back again.
"Crash… What happened? Talk to me."
I open my mouth but my words get caught in my throat. My insides get weak from the shame. I feel the tears building in the corner of my eye, my lower lip dropping to a pathetic quiver. I turn my attention to my son as he is being lifted into Lou's arms.
"Hey… Kid, relax. Everything is gonna be okay.”
It doesn't feel like it. Nothing feels very 'okay' about this situation. Lou goes to say something else, before being cut off by another high pitch screeching as my son continues to sob and cry in his arms. I look towards my window, catching my own reflection. My stomach starts tieing itself into knots, as Lou tries shushing and bouncing Bash.
"I gotta go."
The words leave my mouth in a panic, as I rush out of my room. I hurry down the stairs, the tears finally making their way down my cheek as I reach the bottom. I yank the front door in a hurry, and damn near jump down the stairs of my front porch, as I make a beeline for Lou’s Minibus. The scene of me slapping my boy replays in my head as I pull on the handle rapidly, but to no avail.
“Since when does he lock the fucking thing!”
I press my forehead against the glass and begin to let it out. My heavy sobbing is the only sound to pierce the otherwise peaceful night. I slap myself across the cheek a few times. Slowly I start to calm down but I notice my reflection in the driver side window. For a moment, nearly a split second, I see my father in my face.
“FUCK YOU!”
My fists go through the glass, shattering it into pieces.
“What the absolute fuck are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you! You need to chill-“
I look up at the porch, where Lou stands dumbfounded.
“Give me the keys, Lou.”
“Not until you expla-“
“GIVE ME THE FUCKING KEYS!”
Lou stands still for only a moment, before he tosses the keys through the air and into my hand. Before I know it the keys are in the ignition and I’m barrelling down the road, no attention paid to the speed limit. Each time I reflect on what happened, feelings of disgust, anger, shame and heartbreak rise to the top. Before I know it, I’m stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. Seconds feel like minutes, as the red glare casts its dim glow through the windshield. I watch it patiently, ready to stomp on the pedal the second it turns green. My eyelids feel like boulders from both the lack of sleep and my silent crying. I close them for a second and that’s all it takes for me to drift away into my dreams.
~~~~~
Sweat drips from my brow, puddling beneath my feet as I pant heavily. I feel my heart racing, nearly jumping out of my chest with each labored breath. Each hand gripping onto burlap sacks filled with rocks, extended as far above my head as I can muster. I hear footsteps slowly approach, but I keep my vision to the ground, doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact.
“You look like you are struggling, mijo…”
My jaw clenches and I feel the vein in my forehead begin to bulge.
“Look at me.”
At first I ignore him, determined to carry any hint of defiance I can. It lasts only a second though, after all I'll be better off if I do what he says. As soon as my eyes meet his, his demeanor goes from jovial to angry.
“Don't you dare give me that face.”
His hand claps against my jaw, knocking me back and causing me to drop the weight. This only upsets him more as he doubles me over with a stiff punch to the center of my chest. I double over, fighting back the vomit making its way up my throat. I fall to my hands and knees on the harsh concrete below.
“Stop being a little pussy.”
~~~~~
The car behind me sounds its horn, jolting me awake. I shake away some of the grogginess as I continue my drive. It doesn't take long before I reach my destination. I turn into the parking lot and shut off the engine. I go to get out, my fingers wrapped around the handle, but something keeps me in the driver seat.
“You can do this… Just, take a second to compose yourself… Stop being a little pussy and get out of the car…”
I take a deep breath, as I step out of the car and make my way down a winding dirt path. I look over my shoulder at the cars as they pass by their headlights barely illuminating the area around me for small spurts of time. With each step, memories once again replace my consciousness.
~~~~~
My sister Carmen pulls the ice pack off of my face, giving my face a glance.
“Thats a lot of blood Char-“
“There’s always a lot of blood, Carmie.”
Carmen crosses her arms and gives me an angry pout.
“Do not interrupt me.”
I let out a chuckle that in turn sends a sharp pain into my sides. I wrap my arms around myself, trying my damndest to push through the pain.
“Do you ever miss America?”
“Every waking moment of my life. Back then there was no dad. Nobody to torture and abuse me in the name of making me a champion. Nobody treating me like some kind of animal. I’d give anything in the world to go back to how things used to be.”
I look at my sister, her face hardly holding back the pain she feels. She loves me to death, and has since the day I showed up in this hellhole. Since day one she was the only one who seemed to accept me. Not our dad, not her mom, not our older sisters… Just her.
“I love you, Carmie… It's just that… Beyond anything I miss my mom.”
“You don't talk about her much. What was she like?”
“She was… I don’t know… She was my mom. She was overbearing sometimes, and embarrassing and tried too hard… but that’s because she cared… because she loved me. She was so full of warmth and love. I’d lash out and she’d just hold me and talk to me.”
Through puffy eyes I begin to cry.
“My uncle Dan used to tell me this story from when I was really little. He’d tell me how she’d come home from her 2nd job.”
“Your mom had 2 jobs?”
“Mom always felt I deserved the world. So she worked to afford it. Now back to the story.”
“Ok sorry, go on, go on!”
My sister listens excitedly, while I feel a smile fill my face.
~~~~~
“When I was really little you would come home exhausted. Uncle Dan would tell me how he was supposed to keep me awake while she was at work so you could sleep with me after work…”
I shuffle between my feet, the wet dirt sticking to the bottom of my boots. I place my hand on the stone slab before me, reading the nameplate of my late mother.
“But of course, you know how Danny was, he’d put me to sleep and watch his ‘wrasslin’. Still you’d come home and curl up into bed with me but you’d barely get a wink in before I’d wake up. Dan would tell me stories of how he’d come bolting into the room after hearing my tantrums, only to find me pulling your hair or punching and kicking at you as you tried singing to me. He’d say ‘music aint soothing that beast’ and you’d just smile and say ‘My boy just needs more love then’…”
My hands ball into fists as the waterworks come out in full effect. I hear myself sobbing, as I try to get through each word.
“Today I was in a similar moment… and I didn’t show my son love. I slapped him. You’d be so ashamed of me, mama. I love him, I really do… but I hit him. Today I realized that maybe I’m too much like dad. Maybe all I’m going to do is mess this kid up and ruin his whole fucking life. Turn him into whatever mess he’s made me into…”
“You are not a mess, mijo…”
My whole body goes cold, as my back goes stiff. I turn towards the source and find myself staring at my father.
“What the fuck are you doing here!”
Before I know it my hands are wrapped around his throat.
“You’re not allowed to be here! You never loved me, you never loved her. You’re not welcome here.”
I watch him struggle and gasp for air as my hands slowly begin to block his windpipe. He starts speaking with the little bits of oxygen he’s able to pull in.
“I… Followed… I am… Sorry…”
Time is still for a moment. I take in every last detail of his suffocating face, before letting him go. He's sorry. He’s sorry?
“After all these years, now you're sorry? Now that you’re about to die, you’re sorry?”
“I’ve always been sorry, mijo. I did what I thought was best… Always. I wanted you to be tough. To be strong!”
“You made me weak, you piece of shit! I’m a goddamn mess because of all the shit you put me through!”
“You’re not a mess… You're a survivor. Yes, you went through pain. Yes, I hurt you. But look at you now. You’re strong! You are former champion. You are FUTURE champion. That girl, what is her name, Sarah Dukie? She is, how you say, spoiled. Everything handed to her because of big whopping titties. But you. You fight for it. You bleed for what is yours.”
“You think I need your fucking pep talk? I know I’m going to beat Sahara. Me walking out Paradigm Champion at Decadence is a no brainer, which is just enough for Sahara to even realize. She’s too busy playing naked football, filming shit movies nobody ever watches and sucking off whatever dick she can just to remain relevant. Meanwhile 100 percent of my energy had been put into that fucking ring, and my name is on the tips of every tongue talking about the next big thing. People have slept on me for 3 fucking years! Firings, purges, and companies closing without any notice! THAT ENDS! Call this my time or whatever you fucking want, but at the end of the day it’s fucking simple. From the Paradigm title to the World title and all the way down to whatever backyard bullshit title Zybala can come up with. IT’S ALL FUCKING MINE!”
My father smiles at me for what is perhaps the first time. His face radiating pride.
“All my fucking life I’ve felt like I was a problem. Like something was wrong with me. But when I see Sahara, I honestly feel better about myself. So insecure about themselves they blabber about how great they are and try to ignore the long list of flaws and losses. Clinging to her name like it has any real weight to it, meanwhile all of us know exactly what a Duke does… Half-ass work until they decide to leave when things stop going their way. So I hope the world is ready, because while I’m leaving Decadence as Paradigm champion… Sahara will leave and follow her husband out of this company like the pathetic blood and cock sucking parasite she is.”
“That’s my boy.”
My dad’s expression of joy brings a smile to my face as, for the first time in my life, I feel accepted by him. He rests his hand on my shoulder, and for a second I let it rest there before pulling him in for a hug.