Leaving Guilt: Part One
After witnessing her mother's suicide, a teen girl experiences constant abuse from her father.
I wake up every morning the same way: pissed, guilty, scared, empty, and hearing that noise in my ear. The sound of my mother screaming as she sliced her wrist so deep her hands were hanging backwards. While blood poured out and filled the floor, I remember running in the bathroom and slipping on the blood yelling, "mom what the hell did you do?!" I tried wrapping her wrist with my Slipknot hooded shirt, but blood rushed out so fast like water from a broking pipe.
I rushed to my cell phone to call my dad. I slipped again - this time on our marble floor in the kitchen. "Ted is going to be pissed when he sees this mess" I thought to myself - oblivious to the fact that my mom was bleeding to death on the bathroom floor. I dialed Ted's number before 911 but no answer, just a corny, immature answer machine, ("Hi, can't "cum" to the phone right now ha-ha get it "cum"....beep). I slammed the phone against the wall. It still didn't occur to me to dial 911.
By the time I got to the bathroom, my mom was pale, blue, and lifeless on the blood soaked porcelain tiled floor. I just fell on my knees motionless. My dad Ted came home seven hours later, smeared with the scent of whores and beer. "What the hell happened here?" he uttered. I was still on my knees staring at my mom's bloody body.
"Did y'all have a fight or some in?" he continues,
"Well whatever happened, make sure you clean this crap up cuz I ain't".
I called the ambulance. They picked up her body. One of the guys wished me luck while he smacked his gum - just like that, like it was an everyday thing, like trash day. Three years later, I still see it like it was yesterday. Ted calls me down for breakfast, "Linda, get your ass down here and make me breakfast!" He never gets my name right, and he gave me my damn name. As I flipped the bacon, I remind myself that Ted would be nowhere if it wasn't for my mom.
She was a rich heiress that dreamed of being a rock stars wife (preferably David Bowie's wife). Ted was a lead singer in a band named "Down There" (Considering what a perv Ted is, I'm sure the name meant something naughty). They played at some crap hole bar in downtown Philly when he locked eyes with my mom. She dressed like that chick from those White Snake videos and it was love at first sight.
Whenever he mentioned his music career, Ted's dad burned him with his cigar. I guess Ted's dad was a selfish loser as well. Mom mentioned one night, while we were playing beauty salon, that her and Ted had to sneak away every night to see one another. As she was painting my finger nails with rainbow colors, she had this look on her face - a look of lost and sadness. She told me about the time she called the police on Ted's dad because the abuse became unbearable. Ted's dad stuffed his mouth with a gun and told him to pray for forgiveness. My mom said that was the first and only time she has seen Ted cry. One year after that night, Ted's dad hung himself in his prison cell. Ted moved up from the trailer park to Central park once he ran away.
Throughout their marriage, Ted began pissing away most of my mom's inheritance for: lap dances, cars, and a penile implant. Then I was born, and for Ted, I guess that meant the start of a miserable life. As I get ready for school, Ted screams, "don't get pregnant slut!" My bus almost went on without me. I yell at the bus driver "wait!" I enter and clutch on the two front seats with my wool gloved hands. My knitted rainbow skull-cap slides off my head. I try to retrieve it, but I fall flat on my face - Everyone on the bus laughs, and at this point, I rather be home with Ted.
I suddenly feel a hand wrapped around my arm, but not just any hand, but a sweet, gentle, loving hand helping me up. "Are you okay?" those sexy words are uttered out of Cooper's mouth. Cooper is my future husband and the man that will take my virginity....okay; maybe I'm not a virgin, but for him I'll be. I look up and our eyes lock. My breath is sucked out of me, my knees feel like vibrators, and my heart is about to pop out of my chest, "Thanks" I tell him as my bottom lip quivers. I take my seat and gaze out the window daydreaming about leaving home.
"Hey, what's your name again?" oh my God, Cooper is actually talking to me.
"Um.....Laura"
"So um Laura, where you from?"
"up the street"
"Duh, I mean where did you come from? California? Arizona? Kansas? Here?"
"Oh right, from here"
"Cool"
Cooper turns around and pretends like we've never had this little chit-chat. The bus stops in front of my high school "Fail view High". As I begin to enter, I hear Cooper's voice again,
"So......are you some depressed Goth?"
"No way"
"No, it's cool....I am, so like what's up with the make up?"
"I like wearing my make up.....anyway what's your problem?"
"No! I'm just saying. You're weird, in a cool way. I'm sorry if I pissed you off."
"It's cool"
I rushed to my cell phone to call my dad. I slipped again - this time on our marble floor in the kitchen. "Ted is going to be pissed when he sees this mess" I thought to myself - oblivious to the fact that my mom was bleeding to death on the bathroom floor. I dialed Ted's number before 911 but no answer, just a corny, immature answer machine, ("Hi, can't "cum" to the phone right now ha-ha get it "cum"....beep). I slammed the phone against the wall. It still didn't occur to me to dial 911.
By the time I got to the bathroom, my mom was pale, blue, and lifeless on the blood soaked porcelain tiled floor. I just fell on my knees motionless. My dad Ted came home seven hours later, smeared with the scent of whores and beer. "What the hell happened here?" he uttered. I was still on my knees staring at my mom's bloody body.
"Did y'all have a fight or some in?" he continues,
"Well whatever happened, make sure you clean this crap up cuz I ain't".
I called the ambulance. They picked up her body. One of the guys wished me luck while he smacked his gum - just like that, like it was an everyday thing, like trash day. Three years later, I still see it like it was yesterday. Ted calls me down for breakfast, "Linda, get your ass down here and make me breakfast!" He never gets my name right, and he gave me my damn name. As I flipped the bacon, I remind myself that Ted would be nowhere if it wasn't for my mom.
She was a rich heiress that dreamed of being a rock stars wife (preferably David Bowie's wife). Ted was a lead singer in a band named "Down There" (Considering what a perv Ted is, I'm sure the name meant something naughty). They played at some crap hole bar in downtown Philly when he locked eyes with my mom. She dressed like that chick from those White Snake videos and it was love at first sight.
Whenever he mentioned his music career, Ted's dad burned him with his cigar. I guess Ted's dad was a selfish loser as well. Mom mentioned one night, while we were playing beauty salon, that her and Ted had to sneak away every night to see one another. As she was painting my finger nails with rainbow colors, she had this look on her face - a look of lost and sadness. She told me about the time she called the police on Ted's dad because the abuse became unbearable. Ted's dad stuffed his mouth with a gun and told him to pray for forgiveness. My mom said that was the first and only time she has seen Ted cry. One year after that night, Ted's dad hung himself in his prison cell. Ted moved up from the trailer park to Central park once he ran away.
Throughout their marriage, Ted began pissing away most of my mom's inheritance for: lap dances, cars, and a penile implant. Then I was born, and for Ted, I guess that meant the start of a miserable life. As I get ready for school, Ted screams, "don't get pregnant slut!" My bus almost went on without me. I yell at the bus driver "wait!" I enter and clutch on the two front seats with my wool gloved hands. My knitted rainbow skull-cap slides off my head. I try to retrieve it, but I fall flat on my face - Everyone on the bus laughs, and at this point, I rather be home with Ted.
I suddenly feel a hand wrapped around my arm, but not just any hand, but a sweet, gentle, loving hand helping me up. "Are you okay?" those sexy words are uttered out of Cooper's mouth. Cooper is my future husband and the man that will take my virginity....okay; maybe I'm not a virgin, but for him I'll be. I look up and our eyes lock. My breath is sucked out of me, my knees feel like vibrators, and my heart is about to pop out of my chest, "Thanks" I tell him as my bottom lip quivers. I take my seat and gaze out the window daydreaming about leaving home.
"Hey, what's your name again?" oh my God, Cooper is actually talking to me.
"Um.....Laura"
"So um Laura, where you from?"
"up the street"
"Duh, I mean where did you come from? California? Arizona? Kansas? Here?"
"Oh right, from here"
"Cool"
Cooper turns around and pretends like we've never had this little chit-chat. The bus stops in front of my high school "Fail view High". As I begin to enter, I hear Cooper's voice again,
"So......are you some depressed Goth?"
"No way"
"No, it's cool....I am, so like what's up with the make up?"
"I like wearing my make up.....anyway what's your problem?"
"No! I'm just saying. You're weird, in a cool way. I'm sorry if I pissed you off."
"It's cool"
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