Why So Serious?
Enter: Brutality
There's rum on his breath. There's rum on daddy's breath. Or is it scotch? It doesn't matter, daddy's drunk either way. Mommy isn't home today. She's at work. Just him and daddy.
He's afraid of daddy. Daddy is scaring him. He doesn't want to be around daddy right now. Maybe he can leave. Maybe he can take a walk. Or maybe Ginny will be home and he can go there. Maybe he can just ignore daddy. Maybe daddy will just ignore him too.
Daddy blunders around the kitchen. Pots clang. Glasses tinkle. Something falls on the floor. What's dad doing? If he just ignores him, maybe dad will just ignore him too.
He goes in his room. Dad won't follow him. Dad won't follow him because he is ignoring dad. But it's not working today. Dad follows him. Dad bangs the door open. This isn't good. Ignoring dad isn't working. Dad grabs his shoulders. Hard.
"Watcha' doing there, son?" he asks. Dad yanks his shoulder back. He doesn't say a word. "I asked you a question." Dad spins him around. He still doesn't say anything. "Not talking, huh?" He snorts. "I'll give you a reason not to talk."
Dad smacks him in the mouth. His teeth collide with his upper lip. He can feel the blood gushes in between the spaces. Gushing out of his mouth. But there's no such thing as pain, he thinks. There's no such thing as pain.
Dad socks him in the jaw. There's no such thing as pain. Dad yanks his arm back behind him. There's no such thing as pain. Dad kicks him in the ankles. Kicks him in the legs. Kicks him in the groin. But it doesn't hurt because there isn't such a thing as pain, he tells himself.
Dad's fist collides with his eye. Dad's feet collide with his spine. He falls. There's no such thing as pain.
He stands up. He's bleeding. He's bruising. But there is no such thing as pain, he thinks. Dad hits him one last time, strait in the gut. He falls. Dad towers over him. Dad casts a shadow.
He pushes himself up against the wall. There's no such thing as pain. He glares at his father. And for the last time, he decides, he hears his dad ask him, "Why so serious?"
He's afraid of daddy. Daddy is scaring him. He doesn't want to be around daddy right now. Maybe he can leave. Maybe he can take a walk. Or maybe Ginny will be home and he can go there. Maybe he can just ignore daddy. Maybe daddy will just ignore him too.
Daddy blunders around the kitchen. Pots clang. Glasses tinkle. Something falls on the floor. What's dad doing? If he just ignores him, maybe dad will just ignore him too.
He goes in his room. Dad won't follow him. Dad won't follow him because he is ignoring dad. But it's not working today. Dad follows him. Dad bangs the door open. This isn't good. Ignoring dad isn't working. Dad grabs his shoulders. Hard.
"Watcha' doing there, son?" he asks. Dad yanks his shoulder back. He doesn't say a word. "I asked you a question." Dad spins him around. He still doesn't say anything. "Not talking, huh?" He snorts. "I'll give you a reason not to talk."
Dad smacks him in the mouth. His teeth collide with his upper lip. He can feel the blood gushes in between the spaces. Gushing out of his mouth. But there's no such thing as pain, he thinks. There's no such thing as pain.
Dad socks him in the jaw. There's no such thing as pain. Dad yanks his arm back behind him. There's no such thing as pain. Dad kicks him in the ankles. Kicks him in the legs. Kicks him in the groin. But it doesn't hurt because there isn't such a thing as pain, he tells himself.
Dad's fist collides with his eye. Dad's feet collide with his spine. He falls. There's no such thing as pain.
He stands up. He's bleeding. He's bruising. But there is no such thing as pain, he thinks. Dad hits him one last time, strait in the gut. He falls. Dad towers over him. Dad casts a shadow.
He pushes himself up against the wall. There's no such thing as pain. He glares at his father. And for the last time, he decides, he hears his dad ask him, "Why so serious?"