Sorry guys, no post on Monday. I'll try to get it posted later in the week. :)
~J
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Decisions, Decisions
By the time we arrived home I had calmed down but wanted to be left alone. My parents kept trying to get me to talk about what happened, but I was able to hold their questions off and retired to my room. I laid in bed thinking that maybe there WAS some truth in what the Dr. said. Especially if the VP basically said the same thing. Deciding to take a better look myself, I opened my closet and began going through my clothes. I sorted them into 2 piles. 1 pile was just 'hanging out' clothes, and the other was clothes that I wore to school.
Finally, once I had a huge pile of skirts and dresses that were in the 'school' pile, I began sifting through those separating them into different piles. Things I thought were too short or too fitting I threw into a pile and what was left I put back into my closet.
I stood back and noticed that once I separated them, there really weren't many skirts and dresses left. I gathered up the too short/too fitting items, got a trash bag from the kitchen and threw them all away. My mom stopped me while I was coming out of the garage and asked what I was doing.
"Mom,... I really don't want to talk about it. I just want to be left alone" passing her and making my way back into my bedroom
She followed, "J! Wait a minute! I want to talk to you!"
"MOM! Please!! I don't want to talk about it right now!"
"I'm sorry you don't want to talk about it right now, but you're going to anyway! Something had you really upset at the Dr's office today and I want to know what's going on!"
We were back in my bedroom and I blocked her from entering. "Mom.. please.." I pleaded, but it was no use. She wasn't going to leave.
"J, for the past year and a half you've being going through some things you didn't want to talk about and it only got worse! Now, I know it's probably embarrassing, but I want you to talk to me. Starting now. Starting with what happened at the office today and ending with what you were throwing away"
I paused, wondering if it was worth arguing over, since I knew I was going to lose the battle anyway... might as well stop fighting it and just tell her what she wanted to know.
I stepped away from the door making way for her to enter completely as I took a seat on my bed. She sat down next to me, put her arm around me and I knew it was my que to start explaining. I told her about all of my sessions, how I thought things were going O.K. until that day. I told her about the comments the Dr. made, how they closely resembled what the VP had said and I eventually told her about me purging my closet. Throwing away any and all skirts. She let me talk without interruption at full length. When I was finally done, I just hung my head and held my breath. It wasn't that I was afraid of her, I was just ashamed.
"J. First, let me say that no matter what ANYONE says, it wasn't your fault. No matter what you wore or didn't wear, his actions are not excusable. There is no fault to be had, except for him. HE did this! You didn't! Even if you were to go to school EVERY SINGLE DAY completely naked, he still had NO right to do what he did. And for the VP and the bus driver, well.. I wanted to talk to you about that. Your Father and I have talked and we know what we want to do, however, you are the victim here. You are the one that will have to continue going to this school when everything is all said and done. So, how we proceed is your decision."
"What do you mean it's my decision? What's my decision"
"Well.. we want to go after both of them for putting you in danger, for allowing it to continue even though you complained. For the bus driver who obviously knew what was going on and did nothing to help... actually, he did just the opposite. For him kicking you and Vanessa off the bus though it wasn't your stop. For all the things that happened to you. We want to press charges on O'Neil. He's 16, he's too old to be in 7th grade. There are so many things that went wrong and we're leaving it up to you how you want to handle it. Do YOU want to go after them? Press charges, all of that?"
"Well.. what's my other option?"
"To just let it go and not press charges. You should know by now what WE want to do, but... it's up to you. I know this will be a very difficult decision, but you need to make the one that is best for you. I can't promise your life at school will be O.K. if we go after the VP, the bus driver and O'Neil. But I can promise you that we will be behind you no matter what you decide."
"Can I think about it?"
"Sure, just don't take too long. If we are going to do something about this.. we can't wait very long" With that, she stood up and walked to the door and looked back "Oh and get those clothes out of the trash and back into your closet. I spent good money on those clothes and there's nothing wrong with them. Don't stop wearing them because of what others say, only stop wearing them when YOU want to. I personally picked them all out and I know they aren't considered provocative or slutty or whatever else. I would never let you walk out of this house looking like a tramp and you should know that."
"K, Mom and thanks."
She turned and shut my door behind her. I had a lot of thinking to do and a short amount of time to do it in.
Finally, once I had a huge pile of skirts and dresses that were in the 'school' pile, I began sifting through those separating them into different piles. Things I thought were too short or too fitting I threw into a pile and what was left I put back into my closet.
I stood back and noticed that once I separated them, there really weren't many skirts and dresses left. I gathered up the too short/too fitting items, got a trash bag from the kitchen and threw them all away. My mom stopped me while I was coming out of the garage and asked what I was doing.
"Mom,... I really don't want to talk about it. I just want to be left alone" passing her and making my way back into my bedroom
She followed, "J! Wait a minute! I want to talk to you!"
"MOM! Please!! I don't want to talk about it right now!"
"I'm sorry you don't want to talk about it right now, but you're going to anyway! Something had you really upset at the Dr's office today and I want to know what's going on!"
We were back in my bedroom and I blocked her from entering. "Mom.. please.." I pleaded, but it was no use. She wasn't going to leave.
"J, for the past year and a half you've being going through some things you didn't want to talk about and it only got worse! Now, I know it's probably embarrassing, but I want you to talk to me. Starting now. Starting with what happened at the office today and ending with what you were throwing away"
I paused, wondering if it was worth arguing over, since I knew I was going to lose the battle anyway... might as well stop fighting it and just tell her what she wanted to know.
I stepped away from the door making way for her to enter completely as I took a seat on my bed. She sat down next to me, put her arm around me and I knew it was my que to start explaining. I told her about all of my sessions, how I thought things were going O.K. until that day. I told her about the comments the Dr. made, how they closely resembled what the VP had said and I eventually told her about me purging my closet. Throwing away any and all skirts. She let me talk without interruption at full length. When I was finally done, I just hung my head and held my breath. It wasn't that I was afraid of her, I was just ashamed.
"J. First, let me say that no matter what ANYONE says, it wasn't your fault. No matter what you wore or didn't wear, his actions are not excusable. There is no fault to be had, except for him. HE did this! You didn't! Even if you were to go to school EVERY SINGLE DAY completely naked, he still had NO right to do what he did. And for the VP and the bus driver, well.. I wanted to talk to you about that. Your Father and I have talked and we know what we want to do, however, you are the victim here. You are the one that will have to continue going to this school when everything is all said and done. So, how we proceed is your decision."
"What do you mean it's my decision? What's my decision"
"Well.. we want to go after both of them for putting you in danger, for allowing it to continue even though you complained. For the bus driver who obviously knew what was going on and did nothing to help... actually, he did just the opposite. For him kicking you and Vanessa off the bus though it wasn't your stop. For all the things that happened to you. We want to press charges on O'Neil. He's 16, he's too old to be in 7th grade. There are so many things that went wrong and we're leaving it up to you how you want to handle it. Do YOU want to go after them? Press charges, all of that?"
"Well.. what's my other option?"
"To just let it go and not press charges. You should know by now what WE want to do, but... it's up to you. I know this will be a very difficult decision, but you need to make the one that is best for you. I can't promise your life at school will be O.K. if we go after the VP, the bus driver and O'Neil. But I can promise you that we will be behind you no matter what you decide."
"Can I think about it?"
"Sure, just don't take too long. If we are going to do something about this.. we can't wait very long" With that, she stood up and walked to the door and looked back "Oh and get those clothes out of the trash and back into your closet. I spent good money on those clothes and there's nothing wrong with them. Don't stop wearing them because of what others say, only stop wearing them when YOU want to. I personally picked them all out and I know they aren't considered provocative or slutty or whatever else. I would never let you walk out of this house looking like a tramp and you should know that."
"K, Mom and thanks."
She turned and shut my door behind her. I had a lot of thinking to do and a short amount of time to do it in.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sessions
It was the day of my 1st appointment with the shrink. I was really nervous all day at school and the day seemed to fly by though I wished it hadn't. My dad picked me up when school let out and we only had about 30 minutes to rush to the appointment. We arrived in plenty of time at the office and I reluctantly got out of the car. I couldn't understand why I felt the way I did. She was supposed to help me.. so why was I acting like this was my last walk before I was about to be executed?
We entered her office and she appeared shortly from another room and introduced herself with her hand out stretched; "Hi! I'm Dr. Juanita Garcia. Are you J?". Dr. Garcia was a short round women with dark skin and long black hair. She looked to be in her late 40's or more with glasses sliding down her nose and a pleasant face.
"Yes" I replied as I shook her hand.
"It's very nice to meet you." She turned to my dad, "You must be J's dad. Nice you meet you, too"
They exchanged pleasantries while I glanced around the waiting room at all the awards and diploma's on the walls. She must be pretty good if she's received all these...
As she finished talking with my dad, she asked me to follow her into her inner office to begin our session. After a quick glance to my dad, seeing his reassuring smile, I followed. There was a brown leather couch on one wall and a desk on the other. She sat in the desk chair and motioned me to sit on the couch. I thought to my self... how cliche.. a couch. I sat stiffly on the far side, crossed my ankles and folded my hands in my lap. I didn't know what to expect or how these things really worked.
"So, J. Is there anything you want to talk about today?"
"Umm.. no"
"O.K. well.. why don't we start off by you just telling me about yourself? What things do you like? What things do you hate? What things makes you happy or mad or sad?"
I took a deep breath before I began. I felt like I was taking a damn dating survey or something. I stumbled over my words in the beginning but eventually it became easier to talk to her. Before I knew it, our hour was up and we agreed that I would come back in a week to talk some more.
Three weeks and three sessions later we still hadn't approached the real reason why I was there. She was gently easing me into the topic and I appreciated that greatly. The forth session she finally brought up the sensitive topic. Though I felt I had made some sort of connection with her, I still cringed a little when she started talking about it.
As I left her office that day, I felt a little better about the subject. We really didn't talk much about it, we'd dip into it for a few minutes then she'd switch topics to something else and come back to it later. I didn't feel overwhelmed about it like I expected it to.
Week five came and I just had this feeling she was going to be a little more aggressive with her questions.. and I was right. As soon as I sat down on the couch and after she asked me how I was doing, she went right into questions.
"When did it start?" "Did I ever say no?" "How did I act towards him?" "Did I tell anyone?" "What happened when I told"
I tried to answer her questions as best as I could. Occasionally I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I spoke but I tried my best to push them away. I didn't want to cry. Crying was a sign of weakness and I wasn't weak. I wasn't going to let O'Neil keep making me a victim over and over. I was strong and I was going to over come this.
She continued to ask me questions that too closely resembled the questions the VP asked me. For instance, did I feel that there was anything I thought I did, didn't do, or wore that maybe influenced his actions? The session ended and I left with a tightness in my chest and the remnants of tears on my cheek. This appointment had been the most stressful so far and I didn't like it, but agreed to see her again the following week.
Week six started the same as week five did; hit with question after question. It wasn't even 20 minutes into the session and I was bawling like a baby. I'm sure I was being overly sensitive, but I felt like I again was being blamed for what happened. Just like I felt the VP blamed me. She inquired if what I was currently wearing was the norm for me. I had on a skirt that fit snuggly, but not in a slutty way, that was above my knees and a v-neck shirt and flip-flops. I never dressed slutty, my parents barely allowed me to even WEAR short skirts above my knee. I informed her it was, and she asked if I had ever thought that what I wore around him maybe some how send him the wrong message.
I couldn't believe it!! Another person was insinuating that it was my fault because of what I was wearing!! Maybe it WAS true!??! But, in my mind I kept thinking.. it didn't matter WHAT I wore he had no right! It didn't matter if I was standing there completely naked, he still had no right to touch me without my permission and that NO MEANT NO, no matter what!
Another 10 minutes was all I could take and I fled the office. My dad was still seated in the waiting room, my mom had shown up and was sitting beside him, and I ran to both of them throwing my arms around my mom. I sobbed into her shoulder as they both tried to get me to tell them what happened. I didn't want to talk to either of them at that time, I just wanted to leave. The Dr. followed me out, trying to get me to talk to her. Trying to get me to come back into her office, but I wouldn't go. I wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Without asking any more questions, they gathered up our belongings and we headed for the door leaving the Dr. still standing in her waiting room.
We entered her office and she appeared shortly from another room and introduced herself with her hand out stretched; "Hi! I'm Dr. Juanita Garcia. Are you J?". Dr. Garcia was a short round women with dark skin and long black hair. She looked to be in her late 40's or more with glasses sliding down her nose and a pleasant face.
"Yes" I replied as I shook her hand.
"It's very nice to meet you." She turned to my dad, "You must be J's dad. Nice you meet you, too"
They exchanged pleasantries while I glanced around the waiting room at all the awards and diploma's on the walls. She must be pretty good if she's received all these...
As she finished talking with my dad, she asked me to follow her into her inner office to begin our session. After a quick glance to my dad, seeing his reassuring smile, I followed. There was a brown leather couch on one wall and a desk on the other. She sat in the desk chair and motioned me to sit on the couch. I thought to my self... how cliche.. a couch. I sat stiffly on the far side, crossed my ankles and folded my hands in my lap. I didn't know what to expect or how these things really worked.
"So, J. Is there anything you want to talk about today?"
"Umm.. no"
"O.K. well.. why don't we start off by you just telling me about yourself? What things do you like? What things do you hate? What things makes you happy or mad or sad?"
I took a deep breath before I began. I felt like I was taking a damn dating survey or something. I stumbled over my words in the beginning but eventually it became easier to talk to her. Before I knew it, our hour was up and we agreed that I would come back in a week to talk some more.
Three weeks and three sessions later we still hadn't approached the real reason why I was there. She was gently easing me into the topic and I appreciated that greatly. The forth session she finally brought up the sensitive topic. Though I felt I had made some sort of connection with her, I still cringed a little when she started talking about it.
As I left her office that day, I felt a little better about the subject. We really didn't talk much about it, we'd dip into it for a few minutes then she'd switch topics to something else and come back to it later. I didn't feel overwhelmed about it like I expected it to.
Week five came and I just had this feeling she was going to be a little more aggressive with her questions.. and I was right. As soon as I sat down on the couch and after she asked me how I was doing, she went right into questions.
"When did it start?" "Did I ever say no?" "How did I act towards him?" "Did I tell anyone?" "What happened when I told"
I tried to answer her questions as best as I could. Occasionally I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I spoke but I tried my best to push them away. I didn't want to cry. Crying was a sign of weakness and I wasn't weak. I wasn't going to let O'Neil keep making me a victim over and over. I was strong and I was going to over come this.
She continued to ask me questions that too closely resembled the questions the VP asked me. For instance, did I feel that there was anything I thought I did, didn't do, or wore that maybe influenced his actions? The session ended and I left with a tightness in my chest and the remnants of tears on my cheek. This appointment had been the most stressful so far and I didn't like it, but agreed to see her again the following week.
Week six started the same as week five did; hit with question after question. It wasn't even 20 minutes into the session and I was bawling like a baby. I'm sure I was being overly sensitive, but I felt like I again was being blamed for what happened. Just like I felt the VP blamed me. She inquired if what I was currently wearing was the norm for me. I had on a skirt that fit snuggly, but not in a slutty way, that was above my knees and a v-neck shirt and flip-flops. I never dressed slutty, my parents barely allowed me to even WEAR short skirts above my knee. I informed her it was, and she asked if I had ever thought that what I wore around him maybe some how send him the wrong message.
I couldn't believe it!! Another person was insinuating that it was my fault because of what I was wearing!! Maybe it WAS true!??! But, in my mind I kept thinking.. it didn't matter WHAT I wore he had no right! It didn't matter if I was standing there completely naked, he still had no right to touch me without my permission and that NO MEANT NO, no matter what!
Another 10 minutes was all I could take and I fled the office. My dad was still seated in the waiting room, my mom had shown up and was sitting beside him, and I ran to both of them throwing my arms around my mom. I sobbed into her shoulder as they both tried to get me to tell them what happened. I didn't want to talk to either of them at that time, I just wanted to leave. The Dr. followed me out, trying to get me to talk to her. Trying to get me to come back into her office, but I wouldn't go. I wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Without asking any more questions, they gathered up our belongings and we headed for the door leaving the Dr. still standing in her waiting room.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Breaking it to Mom
**Sorry this is so late guys. I was being a MAJOR procrastinator this week.** :)
While we all waited for my mom to get home, things around the house were the same as usual; laying in front of the T.V. contemplating what we were having for dinner. Just before 5pm the phone rang and it was my mom letting us know she was on her way home. You could feel the tension rise in the air again as we all waited for her to arrive.
Within a half an hour the garage door began to open and my dad went out to meet her in the garage. They made idle chat while coming into the house and I tried to act nonchalant about her being home.
"Hey J"
"Hey mom. How was your day"
"Mine was O.K., but more importantly.. how was yours?"
"Fine" was all I could muster up at the moment. I didn't know when or how the subject was going to come up, but I knew it was and soon.
"Where's your brother and has anyone decided what we're going to do for dinner?"
"He's in his room and I was just saying to Dad that I was in the mood for pizza"
"Sounds fine to me, someone order it" and with that, she headed towards her room to change. My dad gave me a quick glance and followed behind her.
I headed over to the phone to order the pizza, but not before I went to tell my brother that mom was home and to expect the conversation any time.
"I'll just stay in here until she calls for me or the pizza gets here.. whatever comes first" He said without looking from the T.V. I nodded my head and closed the door behind me.
Ordering the pizza didn't take as long as I had hoped. I was really dreading the upcoming conversation about today's activities. As I hung up the phone I heard coming from the other side of the house, coming from my parent's bedroom..
"WHAT!" It was my mother and I knew then that my dad had started the conversation. I stayed seated at the desk in the family room not wanting to venture out and come face to face with my mother at that time. I heard their bedroom door fling open and she was calling for my brother. Using his FULL name. I knew then he was in deep shit. I ran from the family room through the dining room then the kitchen and got to the living room just as my mom was passing headed towards my brother's room.
"Mom" I wanted her attention. I wanted to talk to her before she talked to my brother. I wanted to tell her it wasn't his fault. O.K., yea.. they shouldn't have tried to attack O'Neil the way the did, but still.. the rest of the day wasn't his fault exactly. The shootings DEFINITELY weren't his fault anyway.
However, she kept walking. "MOM!! Please!! Just listen to me for a second!! I want to tell you what happened!"
"I want to hear it from your brother!" turning away from me, she called for him again. He slowly opened his bedroom door and stood in the doorway, not knowing what to expect. "Come out here. I want to talk to you!"
We all gathered around the table, just like my brother and I had with my dad just a few hours ago. "So, tell me what happened and don't leave out a THING!"
My brother began the story from when he received her phone call just after he got home from school leading up to when my dad came home. Of course.. thankfully, he left out the part about me smoking. Guess he didn't want to be in even MORE hot water than he already was. Throughout our conversation, the pizza had arrived and we started eating with the only interruption being my mom going out to look at his car. To every one's surprise she wasn't all that upset after she heard the entire story. At least, she wasn't all that mad at me or my brother anyway.
As we cleaned up our dishes from dinner, my brother had gone back into his room and my dad revisited the topic of me seeing a shrink. Though I had earlier agreed to go see someone, the thought of spilling my guts was starting to make me nervous.
Would it be easier to talk to someone about this that I don't know? Will they really be able to help? Do I really NEED the help? Can't I just forget all this happened???
I guess I was soon going to find out. The next day my dad made me an appointment with a local psychologist, my first appointment was 2 days away.
While we all waited for my mom to get home, things around the house were the same as usual; laying in front of the T.V. contemplating what we were having for dinner. Just before 5pm the phone rang and it was my mom letting us know she was on her way home. You could feel the tension rise in the air again as we all waited for her to arrive.
Within a half an hour the garage door began to open and my dad went out to meet her in the garage. They made idle chat while coming into the house and I tried to act nonchalant about her being home.
"Hey J"
"Hey mom. How was your day"
"Mine was O.K., but more importantly.. how was yours?"
"Fine" was all I could muster up at the moment. I didn't know when or how the subject was going to come up, but I knew it was and soon.
"Where's your brother and has anyone decided what we're going to do for dinner?"
"He's in his room and I was just saying to Dad that I was in the mood for pizza"
"Sounds fine to me, someone order it" and with that, she headed towards her room to change. My dad gave me a quick glance and followed behind her.
I headed over to the phone to order the pizza, but not before I went to tell my brother that mom was home and to expect the conversation any time.
"I'll just stay in here until she calls for me or the pizza gets here.. whatever comes first" He said without looking from the T.V. I nodded my head and closed the door behind me.
Ordering the pizza didn't take as long as I had hoped. I was really dreading the upcoming conversation about today's activities. As I hung up the phone I heard coming from the other side of the house, coming from my parent's bedroom..
"WHAT!" It was my mother and I knew then that my dad had started the conversation. I stayed seated at the desk in the family room not wanting to venture out and come face to face with my mother at that time. I heard their bedroom door fling open and she was calling for my brother. Using his FULL name. I knew then he was in deep shit. I ran from the family room through the dining room then the kitchen and got to the living room just as my mom was passing headed towards my brother's room.
"Mom" I wanted her attention. I wanted to talk to her before she talked to my brother. I wanted to tell her it wasn't his fault. O.K., yea.. they shouldn't have tried to attack O'Neil the way the did, but still.. the rest of the day wasn't his fault exactly. The shootings DEFINITELY weren't his fault anyway.
However, she kept walking. "MOM!! Please!! Just listen to me for a second!! I want to tell you what happened!"
"I want to hear it from your brother!" turning away from me, she called for him again. He slowly opened his bedroom door and stood in the doorway, not knowing what to expect. "Come out here. I want to talk to you!"
We all gathered around the table, just like my brother and I had with my dad just a few hours ago. "So, tell me what happened and don't leave out a THING!"
My brother began the story from when he received her phone call just after he got home from school leading up to when my dad came home. Of course.. thankfully, he left out the part about me smoking. Guess he didn't want to be in even MORE hot water than he already was. Throughout our conversation, the pizza had arrived and we started eating with the only interruption being my mom going out to look at his car. To every one's surprise she wasn't all that upset after she heard the entire story. At least, she wasn't all that mad at me or my brother anyway.
As we cleaned up our dishes from dinner, my brother had gone back into his room and my dad revisited the topic of me seeing a shrink. Though I had earlier agreed to go see someone, the thought of spilling my guts was starting to make me nervous.
Would it be easier to talk to someone about this that I don't know? Will they really be able to help? Do I really NEED the help? Can't I just forget all this happened???
I guess I was soon going to find out. The next day my dad made me an appointment with a local psychologist, my first appointment was 2 days away.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Surprise, Surprise
My father parked in the garage and my brother and I followed him into the house. He excused himself to change and I was thankful, that gave my brother and I some time to talk privately.
"What are we going to tell him" I whispered
"I don't know. We can't tell them the truth though. You know they will freak."
"I don't know. Maybe not. I mean, yea.. it got all crazy, but it wasn't actually our fault we got shot at. WE didn't have a gun"
Before my brother could answer, my dad came out of his bedroom and asked me to join him at the dinning room table to talk. I gave my brother one last glance and reluctantly followed, sitting across the table from my dad.
"So, tell me what's going on" he asked
"Umm.. well.. there's this kid on the bus.. umm.. his name is O'Neil and umm.. he started out being just mean to me. But, um.. then after a while.."
My dad interrupted me, "How long has been a while? When did it start?"
"The beginning of 6th grade. That's when it 1st started"
"It's been going on all this time and you never said anything? Why?"
I continued to tell my father everything that had happened since the beginning. He was appalled, disgusted but mostly, he was angry. VERY angry. Not just with O'Neil but with the bus driver as well as the VP. I don't think I've ever seen my dad THAT angry before. He rose from his seat and began to pace. Muttering only to himself. I wish I knew what was going through his mind, but maybe I didn't want to know.
At one point, I heard something along the lines of him wanting to kick O'Neil's ass but that he couldn't because O'Neil was still considered a child and I kind of chuckled.
"What's so funny?" He turned to me
"Oh.. umm.. nothing"
"Spill it, J. What? What's so damn funny? You think it's funny that I want to find this kid and beat him until he takes his last breath? Is it funny that I want to do the same thing to the driver and the VP? Do you think it's funny that I am fighting the urge to hunt them all down like a madman and kill every last 1 of them? DO YOU?" His voice began to rise and his hands were in fists at his side.
"N.. N.. no..." I stumbled out looking down. "No, that isn't funny, dad. But what I was laughing at is.. well.. Joe showed up at my bus stop today with some friends.. and umm.. I guess he was thinking the same you were cus.." I trailed off. I didn't know if I should finish even though I badly wanted to tell my dad everything that happened that day.
"WHAT?! What did he do?" My father was yelling again, which made me really nervous. I could probably count on one hand that amount of times I ever heard my dad yell. Without waiting for my responce, he called my brother into the dinning room as well.
As my brother entered, he shot me a look that said "Thanks a lot big mouth!" and again I just lowered my head.
"What happened today? And I want the WHOLE STORY! From the time you heard about what was going on with J til I pulled up. Now.. start talking"
My brother relayed our afternoon activities with as much aprehension as I did when telling my dad about what was going on with me. When they were through talking, my dad asked my brother to show him the damage to his car. The two of them started for the door and I was right behind them, "No, J. Stay here" my father ordered and I listened. I didn't want to anger him any more.
Watching from the window I saw my brother walk my dad around his car showing him the bullet holes. I half expected my dad to go into a rage, both from what my brother did and the fact that his car was shot twice. However, to my surprise, I saw my dad put one hand on my brother's shoulder calmly. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I could tell by their body language my dad wasn't mad. What surprised me even more was seeing my dad lean in and hug my brother, pat him on the back once more and they started walking back towards the house. By the time they reached the front door, I had moved away from the window and was sitting quietly on the couch.
"I'm just glad no one was hurt. I know what happened probably scared the shit out of all of you and I hope you learned your lesson, but I'm not going to lecture you. You know I would have done worse if I could have so I'm not going to punish either of you for what happened today." He told both of us
"What about Mom? She's going to freak out when she sees it" I interjected
"Don't worry about your mom, I'll talk to her. Just don't say anything to her until I get a chance to talk to her. Now J, we still need to talk so let's go back into the dinning room"
I nodded and followed my dad again, glancing at my brother with a half smile. He looked relieved that the truth had been told and excused himself to his room.
My dad and I talked some more about the unfortunate events in my life for the past year and a half, talked about how I felt about everything and I just wasn't comfortable getting that detailed with him. He suggested setting me up with a therapist to talk things out and to try to make sure I wouldn't have any long term affects from it all. I agreed that might be a good idea and he said he'd call tomorrow to find one. As our conversation came to a close the phone rang. It was my mom saying she was on her way home.
The whole house took a collective sigh, now we had to tell mom. Out of my two parents, she is sometimes the hardest to tell things to. She has the typical Italian tempter and unlike my father, she raises her voice quick. I knew there was going to be some yelling in my house again and it was going to be a looooonngg night tonight. My only thought was...
Are we ordering pizza?
"What are we going to tell him" I whispered
"I don't know. We can't tell them the truth though. You know they will freak."
"I don't know. Maybe not. I mean, yea.. it got all crazy, but it wasn't actually our fault we got shot at. WE didn't have a gun"
Before my brother could answer, my dad came out of his bedroom and asked me to join him at the dinning room table to talk. I gave my brother one last glance and reluctantly followed, sitting across the table from my dad.
"So, tell me what's going on" he asked
"Umm.. well.. there's this kid on the bus.. umm.. his name is O'Neil and umm.. he started out being just mean to me. But, um.. then after a while.."
My dad interrupted me, "How long has been a while? When did it start?"
"The beginning of 6th grade. That's when it 1st started"
"It's been going on all this time and you never said anything? Why?"
I continued to tell my father everything that had happened since the beginning. He was appalled, disgusted but mostly, he was angry. VERY angry. Not just with O'Neil but with the bus driver as well as the VP. I don't think I've ever seen my dad THAT angry before. He rose from his seat and began to pace. Muttering only to himself. I wish I knew what was going through his mind, but maybe I didn't want to know.
At one point, I heard something along the lines of him wanting to kick O'Neil's ass but that he couldn't because O'Neil was still considered a child and I kind of chuckled.
"What's so funny?" He turned to me
"Oh.. umm.. nothing"
"Spill it, J. What? What's so damn funny? You think it's funny that I want to find this kid and beat him until he takes his last breath? Is it funny that I want to do the same thing to the driver and the VP? Do you think it's funny that I am fighting the urge to hunt them all down like a madman and kill every last 1 of them? DO YOU?" His voice began to rise and his hands were in fists at his side.
"N.. N.. no..." I stumbled out looking down. "No, that isn't funny, dad. But what I was laughing at is.. well.. Joe showed up at my bus stop today with some friends.. and umm.. I guess he was thinking the same you were cus.." I trailed off. I didn't know if I should finish even though I badly wanted to tell my dad everything that happened that day.
"WHAT?! What did he do?" My father was yelling again, which made me really nervous. I could probably count on one hand that amount of times I ever heard my dad yell. Without waiting for my responce, he called my brother into the dinning room as well.
As my brother entered, he shot me a look that said "Thanks a lot big mouth!" and again I just lowered my head.
"What happened today? And I want the WHOLE STORY! From the time you heard about what was going on with J til I pulled up. Now.. start talking"
My brother relayed our afternoon activities with as much aprehension as I did when telling my dad about what was going on with me. When they were through talking, my dad asked my brother to show him the damage to his car. The two of them started for the door and I was right behind them, "No, J. Stay here" my father ordered and I listened. I didn't want to anger him any more.
Watching from the window I saw my brother walk my dad around his car showing him the bullet holes. I half expected my dad to go into a rage, both from what my brother did and the fact that his car was shot twice. However, to my surprise, I saw my dad put one hand on my brother's shoulder calmly. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I could tell by their body language my dad wasn't mad. What surprised me even more was seeing my dad lean in and hug my brother, pat him on the back once more and they started walking back towards the house. By the time they reached the front door, I had moved away from the window and was sitting quietly on the couch.
"I'm just glad no one was hurt. I know what happened probably scared the shit out of all of you and I hope you learned your lesson, but I'm not going to lecture you. You know I would have done worse if I could have so I'm not going to punish either of you for what happened today." He told both of us
"What about Mom? She's going to freak out when she sees it" I interjected
"Don't worry about your mom, I'll talk to her. Just don't say anything to her until I get a chance to talk to her. Now J, we still need to talk so let's go back into the dinning room"
I nodded and followed my dad again, glancing at my brother with a half smile. He looked relieved that the truth had been told and excused himself to his room.
My dad and I talked some more about the unfortunate events in my life for the past year and a half, talked about how I felt about everything and I just wasn't comfortable getting that detailed with him. He suggested setting me up with a therapist to talk things out and to try to make sure I wouldn't have any long term affects from it all. I agreed that might be a good idea and he said he'd call tomorrow to find one. As our conversation came to a close the phone rang. It was my mom saying she was on her way home.
The whole house took a collective sigh, now we had to tell mom. Out of my two parents, she is sometimes the hardest to tell things to. She has the typical Italian tempter and unlike my father, she raises her voice quick. I knew there was going to be some yelling in my house again and it was going to be a looooonngg night tonight. My only thought was...
Are we ordering pizza?
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Mario Andretti would be proud
I closed my eyes even tighter as I heard the screeching of the other car's tires approaching. I was just waiting for the bone breaking noise cars make when they collide. But it never came. The screeching stopped and horns were honking so I opened my eyes. Though I was afraid of what I might see still coming towards me, I wanted to know why it was taking so long to come.
To my surprise, the vehicle that I thought would make us all into roadkill stopped directly beside our car. The driver was obviously shaken and quiet mad.
"What the fuck is your problem! Why they hell did you come flying out of that street!??" the pissed of driver yelled at us.
Before any of us answered, my brother hit the gas again and we speed away. Hoping and praying the other driver didn't get our license plate number. To say I was scared is an understatement, but I was also filled with adrenaline. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would fly out of my chest. My hands were shaking, my palms were sweaty and I thought I was going to throw up. My brother kept a pace that would make Mario Andretti impressed as we speed all the way home, constantly checking his rear view mirror.
No one spoke until we arrived at our house and were exiting the car, then every one of my brother's friends spoke in rapid succession.
"Jesus man.. that shit was crazy!"
"No shit! I really thought someone was gonna get shot!"
"Who knew that shit was gonna happen?"
"What did you think was gonna happen you dumbass! You started screaming about niggers in an all nigger town!!"
"Hey man... how's your car?"
"I'm kind of afraid to look actually" my brother said, as he lit a cigarette.
They all started circling his car checking for damage, I however sat on the front lawn still in shock. To every one's surprise, there was no visible body damage from the impact with the ditch, however there were 2 bullet holes. One was in the trunk just to the right of the lock and the other bullet hole was on the passenger side just above the rear wheel. I said a silent prayer of thanks that his gas tank wasn't on that side, otherwise we all would have been on fire.
"Who was that guy shooting at us anyway?" Someone asked
"J, do you know who that was? Was that that nigger's dad?" another asked
"I don't think so. I don't think his Father's still in the picture but everyone in that town is related somehow so it could have been an uncle or something, I don't know" I answered
"Well, I don't think he'll be messing with you anymore, if he knows what's good for him anyway" my brother said, trying to act like he wasn't shaken by what transpired. However, I could see that his own hands were just as shaky as mine still were.
"Umm.. can I have a cigarette?" I asked my brother without looking up to meet his eyes.
"WHAT?"
"I asked if I could have a cigarette, too"
"J, you're not old enough. Plus, they're bad for you"
"Yea.. says the guy who's been smoking long before you were the age I am now. Please?"
"Fine, but don't tell mom or dad I gave you one. They'll freak for sure!"
I had never had a cigarette before and wasn't even quiet sure how to smoke it right. I didn't want to look like a fool in front of my brother's friends who just almost gave their life for me. My brother handed me an unlit cigarette from his pack with words of advice, "Don't inhale real deep, you'll cough and probably throw up. Here, I'll light it for you"
I was really surprised he was being so nice about it. I figured he'd give me more of a fight, but he handed me the lit cigarette and I slowly took a drag. The thing tasted horrible and I wanted to puke, but to save face in front of everyone, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
"Yea.. well.. who's gonna tell them about the bullet holes?" I asked, attempting to take another drag.
"Shit! I don't know. They're gonna flip the fuck out when they see them, though"
We all tried brainstorming to figure out a good lie. Obviously there weren't ANY lies that would cover up that story convincingly. Just as my brother's friends were piling in their cars to leave, leaving my brother and I alone to figure out the mess, my father pulls up and parks directly beside my brother's car.
"Hey" my dad addressed us as he gathered his briefcase and coffee cup from the car.
"Uh.. hey. What are you doing home so early?" I cautiously asked, thankful I had already put out my cigarette before he arrived.
"Well, your mom called me at work and said there was a situation going on with you and some boy on the bus. I wanted to come home and talk about it and see what we were going to do to handle the situation"
My brother and I looked at eachother nervously. Little did my dad know.. we had already attempted 'handling' the situation. I was starting to wonder if cops were going to show up at the house any minute, if anyone from the bus or that town had gotten his license plate number OR the guy that almost hit us. Worry about that alone made me want to throw up again.
To my surprise, the vehicle that I thought would make us all into roadkill stopped directly beside our car. The driver was obviously shaken and quiet mad.
"What the fuck is your problem! Why they hell did you come flying out of that street!??" the pissed of driver yelled at us.
Before any of us answered, my brother hit the gas again and we speed away. Hoping and praying the other driver didn't get our license plate number. To say I was scared is an understatement, but I was also filled with adrenaline. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would fly out of my chest. My hands were shaking, my palms were sweaty and I thought I was going to throw up. My brother kept a pace that would make Mario Andretti impressed as we speed all the way home, constantly checking his rear view mirror.
No one spoke until we arrived at our house and were exiting the car, then every one of my brother's friends spoke in rapid succession.
"Jesus man.. that shit was crazy!"
"No shit! I really thought someone was gonna get shot!"
"Who knew that shit was gonna happen?"
"What did you think was gonna happen you dumbass! You started screaming about niggers in an all nigger town!!"
"Hey man... how's your car?"
"I'm kind of afraid to look actually" my brother said, as he lit a cigarette.
They all started circling his car checking for damage, I however sat on the front lawn still in shock. To every one's surprise, there was no visible body damage from the impact with the ditch, however there were 2 bullet holes. One was in the trunk just to the right of the lock and the other bullet hole was on the passenger side just above the rear wheel. I said a silent prayer of thanks that his gas tank wasn't on that side, otherwise we all would have been on fire.
"Who was that guy shooting at us anyway?" Someone asked
"J, do you know who that was? Was that that nigger's dad?" another asked
"I don't think so. I don't think his Father's still in the picture but everyone in that town is related somehow so it could have been an uncle or something, I don't know" I answered
"Well, I don't think he'll be messing with you anymore, if he knows what's good for him anyway" my brother said, trying to act like he wasn't shaken by what transpired. However, I could see that his own hands were just as shaky as mine still were.
"Umm.. can I have a cigarette?" I asked my brother without looking up to meet his eyes.
"WHAT?"
"I asked if I could have a cigarette, too"
"J, you're not old enough. Plus, they're bad for you"
"Yea.. says the guy who's been smoking long before you were the age I am now. Please?"
"Fine, but don't tell mom or dad I gave you one. They'll freak for sure!"
I had never had a cigarette before and wasn't even quiet sure how to smoke it right. I didn't want to look like a fool in front of my brother's friends who just almost gave their life for me. My brother handed me an unlit cigarette from his pack with words of advice, "Don't inhale real deep, you'll cough and probably throw up. Here, I'll light it for you"
I was really surprised he was being so nice about it. I figured he'd give me more of a fight, but he handed me the lit cigarette and I slowly took a drag. The thing tasted horrible and I wanted to puke, but to save face in front of everyone, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
"Yea.. well.. who's gonna tell them about the bullet holes?" I asked, attempting to take another drag.
"Shit! I don't know. They're gonna flip the fuck out when they see them, though"
We all tried brainstorming to figure out a good lie. Obviously there weren't ANY lies that would cover up that story convincingly. Just as my brother's friends were piling in their cars to leave, leaving my brother and I alone to figure out the mess, my father pulls up and parks directly beside my brother's car.
"Hey" my dad addressed us as he gathered his briefcase and coffee cup from the car.
"Uh.. hey. What are you doing home so early?" I cautiously asked, thankful I had already put out my cigarette before he arrived.
"Well, your mom called me at work and said there was a situation going on with you and some boy on the bus. I wanted to come home and talk about it and see what we were going to do to handle the situation"
My brother and I looked at eachother nervously. Little did my dad know.. we had already attempted 'handling' the situation. I was starting to wonder if cops were going to show up at the house any minute, if anyone from the bus or that town had gotten his license plate number OR the guy that almost hit us. Worry about that alone made me want to throw up again.
Monday, August 16, 2010
**Sorry this is late and shorter than my other posts usually are. I got home early this morning and was too tired to write it then. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Happy Monday all!**
Two shots rang out and the yelling stopped. Everyone looked around to see where the shots were coming from and saw an older black man walking from his front porch with a pistol in his hand aimed right at us. The screaming picked back up, but this time it wasn't racial slurs or threatening words, it was panic. Everyone was scrambling to hide. Car doors flew open, kids rolled over hoods and some dove under the bus. I didn't know what to do or what to say, I was in complete shock. This had gone too far!
My brother shoved his door open and began to climb out but I grabbed him by his sleeve and tried to pull him back in.
"Don't go! You'll get shot!" I pleaded
"J, I can't just leave my friends out there!!" he yelled back
"Drive over to them and try to get them! But don't get out of the car! PLEASE!!"
"What if they're hurt!? What if they're shot!!!!!" I could hear the panic in his voice and it was making me even more afraid
"PLEASE!! JUST DON'T GET OUT!! You won't be any good if you get shot too!!"
He paused briefly, apparently trying to decide if he should chance it, make a run for his friends or take my advice. I was relieved when he slid back into the driver seat and put it into gear. I looked to my right and the black man was approaching fast.
"GO! GO! GO!" I yelled, willing his little 4 cylinder car like it was a race car
He punched the gas and we took off, swerving around the bus missing it within inches. He stopped just on the other side of the bus and his friends scrambled to get inside. I don't know how we did it, but we had 8 people inside the car, everyone checking for bullet wounds. The other car that belonged to his friend pulled up beside us, honked and speed away. My brother hit the accelerator once more and we began to speed around the front of the bus. Just as we rounded the corner another shot rang out, hitting the trunk with a loud bang. Everyone screamed and my brother lost control of the car.
His right tire slammed into the curb and he over corrected, sending us into the other side of the road. When we hit the curb on that side, we were going too fast and instead of bouncing off the curb we went flying into a small ditch. He apparently never took his foot off the gas because the impact of the curb OR the ditch didn't slow us down.
None of us had our seat belts on so bodies were flying all over the car as we did a 360, bouncing off each side of the embankment. Our car took flight and we landed in the middle of an intersection, everyone yelling and screaming. I looked out the window to see a car headed straight for us. The driver side of the car. The side I was on AND my brother. I closed my eyes and braced for the impact.
Two shots rang out and the yelling stopped. Everyone looked around to see where the shots were coming from and saw an older black man walking from his front porch with a pistol in his hand aimed right at us. The screaming picked back up, but this time it wasn't racial slurs or threatening words, it was panic. Everyone was scrambling to hide. Car doors flew open, kids rolled over hoods and some dove under the bus. I didn't know what to do or what to say, I was in complete shock. This had gone too far!
My brother shoved his door open and began to climb out but I grabbed him by his sleeve and tried to pull him back in.
"Don't go! You'll get shot!" I pleaded
"J, I can't just leave my friends out there!!" he yelled back
"Drive over to them and try to get them! But don't get out of the car! PLEASE!!"
"What if they're hurt!? What if they're shot!!!!!" I could hear the panic in his voice and it was making me even more afraid
"PLEASE!! JUST DON'T GET OUT!! You won't be any good if you get shot too!!"
He paused briefly, apparently trying to decide if he should chance it, make a run for his friends or take my advice. I was relieved when he slid back into the driver seat and put it into gear. I looked to my right and the black man was approaching fast.
"GO! GO! GO!" I yelled, willing his little 4 cylinder car like it was a race car
He punched the gas and we took off, swerving around the bus missing it within inches. He stopped just on the other side of the bus and his friends scrambled to get inside. I don't know how we did it, but we had 8 people inside the car, everyone checking for bullet wounds. The other car that belonged to his friend pulled up beside us, honked and speed away. My brother hit the accelerator once more and we began to speed around the front of the bus. Just as we rounded the corner another shot rang out, hitting the trunk with a loud bang. Everyone screamed and my brother lost control of the car.
His right tire slammed into the curb and he over corrected, sending us into the other side of the road. When we hit the curb on that side, we were going too fast and instead of bouncing off the curb we went flying into a small ditch. He apparently never took his foot off the gas because the impact of the curb OR the ditch didn't slow us down.
None of us had our seat belts on so bodies were flying all over the car as we did a 360, bouncing off each side of the embankment. Our car took flight and we landed in the middle of an intersection, everyone yelling and screaming. I looked out the window to see a car headed straight for us. The driver side of the car. The side I was on AND my brother. I closed my eyes and braced for the impact.
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