Sequel: Unpredictable

I'm Raw and Invincible

dance around the truth

John knew what he was doing was a terrible decision but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It’s been a few days since the hospital incident and when Joel had talked to him and he’s been thinking about his life for those three days straight. He’s tried to figure out what has made him so depressed and anytime he thought he actually figured it out, a new memory would surface which would lead to three more and those three would lead to five more and it was just never ending. John never thought his life was awful or tragic and he still doesn’t think that it’s just now he’s coming to realize that his life wasn’t as clean and happy as he always tries to tell himself.

He remembers being in his room playing with his G.I Joe and hearing his parents fighting. He remembers putting the doll down, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs and watching them through the bannister as they yelled and threw their hands around. His father pushed his mother who stumbled back and fell into the front door, she put her hand to her stomach and walked away from his dad. John didn’t understand why she felt her stomach until seven months later when his brother was born. There were multiple days when his mom wouldn’t leave her bed so John would change his brother’s diaper, he would feed him, give him a bath to the best of his ability. Around his brother’s first birthday his mom snapped out of whatever daze she was in and became the mom he knew.

Things were okay for a while, his dad’s work picked up and his mom was actually mothering him and his brother. Two years later his mom got pregnant again and his dad got angry again. John took care of his brothers while his mom fell into another daze. It took longer for her to snap out of it and when she did things got a little better but not by much. Even at a young age he knew the drinks his father was drinking weren’t coca cola. He didn’t know much about them but he knew that when his father drank a lot of them he got mean. He would yell and sometimes throw things. It didn’t get really bad until John was around ten years old.

His father lost his job and was drinking more frequently. He was also starting fights with his mom more and more. He was always on her case about making sure dinner was ready by six o’clock sharp and making sure the dusting and vacuuming was up to date. The laundry was to be done every day and there were to never be dirty dishes. John’s father became a tyrant and his mom was just letting it happen. He didn’t understand why that was until John witnessed his father abuse his mother again. Six o’clock rolled around and dinner wasn’t on the table and there were no more beers for his father to drink. His dad started yelling and demanding to know why dinner wasn’t ready; his mom tried to explain that it would be ready in just a few minutes but his father wasn’t having it. He started getting in her face and pushing her back against the hot stove. His dad was fuming and wouldn’t listen to her pleas to get away the stove. His mom burned three fingers and his dad threw hot vegetables all over her then threw the pot at her chest. His dad stormed out of the house to get more alcohol and John rushed to his mom’s side.

She couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t tell him what to do and all he could remember was that when he was little and burned his finger his mom ran it under cold weather. John took his mom to the bathroom and helped her into the shower. He turned on the cold water and let it wash over her for a few minutes and helped get some of the food off of her. Once he was done he helped her change and put her to bed. John did his best to finish whatever cooking his mom was doing so his dad didn’t get mad at him but it didn’t matter because his dad got back with fast food and new beer. John made his brothers some macaroni and took care of them that night.

John and his mom never spoke of that incident; in fact they didn’t talk about any of the abuse she suffered and all that John did. He practically raised his brothers and took care of all of his mom’s cuts and bruises. He didn’t regret doing those things but he was so young and he didn’t know what he was doing. John isn’t really upset with his mother because she was going through a lot but maybe it would have been better if they would have talked about it. Maybe it would have been better if his mom would have forced his dad to move out sooner than she did. She waited until he laid a hand on his youngest brother to kick him out which didn’t seem fair because there were plenty of times his dad hit him and she didn’t do anything about it.

Maybe she wasn’t strong enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe. That’s all his childhood was. A lot of maybe’s; maybe his dad wouldn’t drink today, maybe he won’t have that eleventh beer, maybe he won’t yell, maybe he won’t hit us, maybe he’ll get sick and die, maybe he’ll leave his mom, maybe he’ll get better, maybe he’ll change.
John could remember praying and wishing for this father to die because he hated him so much. He knew he should have felt bad about it but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. When he found out his dad had liver failure he was positively relieved and he was sure that wasn’t how he was supposed to feel. He tried to feel sad like his mom and his brothers but he couldn’t do it. He was relieved and there was nothing he could do about it.

Things for John seemed to get better once his dad died. He had to take care of his mom and brothers like he used to but because he was used to it, it was pretty easy. The band kicked off then after his dad’s death and he felt like his family would actually be okay so he left and he had the time of his life and he thought because he was doing what he’s always wanted to do, that the depression would go away. It crept back in though like it always did. He didn’t tell anyone about it and he just kept going and going and going. He started partying and drinking and even trying some drugs and before he knew it, he ended up where he is at now; thinking about things he never wanted to remember with a voice in the back of his mind telling him he has really fucked up.

He never wanted a drink so badly in his life and he knew that drinking more would cause him serious damage but he didn’t care. He was thinking about too many awful things and he couldn’t shut his brain off and nothing was going to help but a bottle of scotch could do the trick.
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emerges from the word works. hi everyone so it's been like a year since i've updated and for that i am really sorry. please don't hate me.