Sid and the Last Five Years

“He was normal before, a good man. Mom just... she can't keep her fucking mouth shut sometimes, you've seen her... Dad just, couldn't handle her anymore. I'm pretty sure the inside of his head just fell apart. He didn't mean any harm. I remember hearing Mom fall from the other room, at first I thought it was because she was a drunken mess, but now, after analyzing it over and over, I know she was pushed down. It explains the screams, the repetitive screams, of being kicked.

“He passed our room, Adam's and mine that is, and I could hear his footsteps fade to the back door, that led to our garage. Muttering, it was loud, too loud to drown out. Metal crashed against the walls, I found out it was a hammer, and had made a huge dent in the wall. I heard him cry out in pain, then I heard a cat. I told Adam to be quiet, and by this time we were both crying, crying an awful lot. Adam wasn't quiet of course, I couldn't hear myself think from his whines. I was quiet though; quiet as a mouse. I opened my door, being careful not to make any loud noises. I should have known then, that moment when I was being silent to avoid getting hurt, that I was scared- but I guess I only felt stirred up. I was only really upset because things were different from the normal, something wasn't right, but I didn't think something was really wrong. But now I know it was wrong, and now I know I should have been scared.

“Mom was wallowing in self-pity on the floor, the cry of the pig in pain, not wanting to be slaughtered into fresh, early morning bacon. My pace was quicker, and I ignored my mother, just simply shrugged her off as if she were no big deal and headed onto the garage. I knew I would find my father there, but he wasn't what he used to be. As the psychosis unfolded, so did the demon within him. His eyes were glazed-over balls of foggy white, his dry, cracked mouth hung open ajar, his sunken pale cheeks were covered in a bloody handprint. I was confused, but I wasn't scared yet.

“I looked down at his hands, one of them was mangled, as if a car had just repeatedly backed over it. It was the limbs you saw in cheaply-made horror movies, pure red liquid and meaty chunks hanging in odd places. My breath took to a quicker pace, and my heart sped up to a rate that reminded me of a marching band's drum. Mom was crying, Adam was crying, tears ran down my face but I could not comprehend.

“Dad did not understand either, as he slammed the secondary hammer which he had not thrown at the wall, down on his hand once more. A detached scream flew from his elongated mouth, but his body was vacant. Even when you're eight and you question the trees and the bugs and the dirt and all your surroundings existence, you know when someone exists. My father no longer existed, he was here physically (barely even that, for I could barely recognize him) but he was not here mentally. The hurt he was inflicting amongst himself, he could not feel. I let out a cry. He didn't hear it.

“The hammer slammed down on his hand, my feet were nailed to the floor. I wanted to run, but my eyes were hooked on the moving picture, the movie in front of me. My small, little body shook violently and he dropped the hammer to the floor. He didn't acknowledge I was in the room, he went storming out of the garage, his hand merely an unfortunate event that took place. He shrugged it off as I had shaken my mother off just a few minutes before. Now I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped, enclosed in my mother's drunken arms, huddling with her and Adam, being rocked to sleep like an innocent infant, and doze off into a deep sleep.

“I believe my father was trying to form words, but all that came out was a heated outcry followed by my mother's exhausted wail. If you wouldn't have known any better, you would think my mother had just brutally taken a hammer to her own hand, other than being kicked a few times and left to think. He was in the room with my mom now, just screaming senselessly.

“'Stop,' I whispered to the best of my ability. It was a long stretch to form such a simple word, air was being sucked out of me as if by vacuum, my heart thudded like a jackrabbit's sprinting feet.

“I heard a loud smash, then I heard what was possibly the worst sound I ever have. There is nothing like the sound of a cat screeching out in agony. There was excessive cruelty being applied, that hisses didn't occur, just the long, high-pitched shriek of the cat. I thought it was dead once my father returned to the garage, it lay limp in his arms. Then the low groaning of the cat began, the low moans of one who has been mistreated too long, too much, and could not withstand to be mistreated again. He didn't stop.

“'I should just kill the bitch,' I heard him mutter, words flowing out now, angry, evil words. 'Fucking bitch is all she is, worthless piece of shit. Not worth my time, not worth her life. I'm stupid, let's see who's fucking stupid now. Stupid, drunk whore will beg for her life- stupid fucking-' Things of the like never ceased. My eyebrows wrinkled together, tears fell wildly out of my eyes. Although he only had one hand, it didn't seem to matter to him, it was like it had never even happened.

“The tool dad used to cut his wood, he put whatever was left of the cat's body inside it, and tightened it to hold the cat in place. He called my mom in, but she claimed she couldn't walk. Dad drug her into the room, first by her shirt, and then when that became a problem from the flailing arms and legs, he took the arms roughly and dragged her by them. Her body tumbled down the stairs, and the insults started.

“'You see that?' He pointed with his good hand over to the cat. It wasn't dead yet, but it was close. 'That was the first thing we ever got, together.' And then I remembered the cat was old, then I remembered it should have been dead enduring all that it did that night. 'Two years after we got it, I sprung for our fucking marriage! I bought you a ring to put on your finger, a house to put the cat in, a car to ride in, I bought you everything! I was a loving, caring man, better than anyone you'd ever been with before! You don't think I knew you cheated on me? FUCK, I knew every time you did! You were a stupid little slut and didn't cover your tracks. It ate away at me, but I said nothing, I took anger out on myself, I started cutting, finding solace in that, but that wasn't good enough, and it's not good enough anymore. I assumed it was my fault, but now I know it's not. I'm not the stupid one here, and you should know that.' He walked over to the cat, with the confidence of one who has just won the ultimate argument, triumphantly, he began to twist the metal lever, closing the two metal bars in on the cat's ribcage. The cat screamed. My mother was belligerent and spat out insults as if it'd get her anywhere; she was terrified. Both of them didn't say a word to me, it was as if I were a ghost.

“The cat was dead by the time he took the razor blade to it. I remember him saying 'I don't deserve to be cut anymore.' The threading of their marriage had just broken all strings from the blade whisked at it. The cat was dead by the time he took the razor blade to it.

“The cat was dead by the time he took the razor blade to it.”