Twinkling Dots On Empty Skies

3. Childhood monster

WARNING! - This chapter contains physical and psychological violence.

His temples were squeezing his brain, the sunlight across the room was burning his tired eyes and the muffled sound of furious screams was rumbling inside his confused head.

It was 9:45 am on a Friday. The sun was high in the sky but Reg was still buried in his sheets, trying to connect all the events that happened the night before. He couldn't see much, his glasses were still on the nightstand and he wasn't able to find the strength to put them on.

"Where is he?!"

"Stanley, try to calm down ... you won't solve anything with this attitude ..."

"Calm down?! For God sake, Sheila! You don't know a damn thing about what your son did last night!"

"Our son ..." she specified with fear in her voice.

"I assure you that, after what he did, he's just yours"

Weak and worried tones were colliding with a rumbling and angry voice that was getting closer to Reg's ears, still asleep and recovering from a hangover.

"Reginald, wake up! You'll pay for what you did. Stand up, get dressed and come downstairs, now!" his father roared.

Still half asleep in his messy bed, he put his glasses on, trying to understand why his father was so furious. He could still feel his head hammering non-stop, making him feel nauseous.

Right after he sat on the edge of the bed, an electric shock made him believe that liters of vomit would have come out of his mouth but, luckily, they didn't. His bare feet were hanging on the icing floor, waiting for a brain order to move. He rubbed his eyes, hidden behind those thick glasses and attempted to stand up without throwing up. As fast as he managed to connect the last synapses, the whole picture was clear.

"Fuck"

He slowly put on his clothes, his shoes and brushed his teeth. It was time, the moment he always feared was about to come: the reckoning.

Every step he made was getting him closer to his childhood monster. He was a grown up man, but his inner child was still scared to death as if -21- was just a number on a piece of paper. His mind was still trapped in his early teenage years, when he finally understood which was his role in that family. Once the young Reggy moved his first steps, they took his life away. It wasn't his life anymore but his father's.

Then, there he was, right in front of him.

"What day is today?" Stanley asked sternly with fire in his eyes.

Reg wasn't sure if his question was ironic or in need of an answer but, to avoid any risk, he answered.

"Friday, dad" he answered with a trembling tone.

"Where should you be right now?"

"At Mr. Harris' office ..."

"Oh, your brain is still in there ... good" he observed, sarcastically. "So, why the fuck you get drunk, broke Linda's heart and didn't show up at work?!"

Reg was paralyzed, he didn't know what to say. His father would have never understood the truth, he had no idea of what he was passing through and he definitely hadn't enough patience to learn.

"Answer me!" he yelled, slapping him across the face.

"Stanley ..." Reg's mother whispered with a scared voice, trying to protect her baby.

"Mind your own business, Sheila!" he rudely replied.

"You wouldn't understand. You never do" Reg bravely stated, with his eyes stuck on the floor.

Another slap crashed across his face.

"How dare you?! You owe me an answer! You wouldn't have what you have if it wasn't for me!"

"I didn't ask for those things"

He hit him again, harder, making the lower lip split.

"I'm going to give you one more chance, Reginald ..."

Reg knew what was about to come. He knew that, whatever the answer was, the consequences would have been the same so he took advantage of the opportunity that had been given to him.

"As I said" he began, cleaning his lip with the back of his hand,

"I didn't ask you anything. I hate this job, I don't love Linda and I don't wanna marry her. I don't wanna be stuck like mum... unhappy like you. I got drunk because it seemed to be the only thing I could do to feel better. It was the only way to forget the life you forced me to live".

His father was speechless. He repetitively opened and closed his mouth; no words were coming out of it. His face was red, his teeth clenched and invisible smoke was flowing out his ears.

His fists were closed and his knuckles turned white but nobody in that room knew what was about to come. Stanely's right fist moved fast through the air, violently placing itself on Reg's nose that started bleeding.

"Good God, Stanley!" Sheila screamed "Reggy, sweetheart ...." she sobbed in tears, wiping off the blood from his son's face, who was resting on the floor.

"Mum, it's fine ..." he reassured her, trying to get on his feet again.

The glacial glance of his father was penetrating Reg's hazel and warm eyes. The hate that transpired from that man was rare as a diamond: equally sharp and cold.

"I want you out of here... and don't come back".

Said that, the big and terrifying monster turned into an ordinary middle-aged man. That sick umbilical cord had finally been cut. He was free and, for the first time, his life was in his own hands.

He didn't let him say it twice, he dropped the house keys on the floor, gave a comforting look at his mother and walked out the door.

It was the 22nd of September and the Londoner weather wasn't enjoyable during the evening. It was really cold outside and Reg was wandering around the town since that morning, with no coat, a blood-stained shirt and a broken nose. The smartest choice was to go to the hospital but he had no intention and creativity to come up with a plausible lie that could justify his conditions. He didn't want to involve his mother in that situation. If he would have told the truth, she would have had problems, so he just walked around unknown places, not knowing where to go.

"Maybe I should spend the few money I have for a bus ticket ..." he thought.

"Or ask a friend if I can stay for the night"

He would have come up with thousands of solutions instead of coming back home on his knees, begging his father to let him come inside. No way.

It was 8:25 pm when he ended up, tired as he had never been, sitting on an old bench, lost in his thoughts. The nose was still hurting but he didn't care, he just wanted to sleep and change that dirty shirt. 

The town was empty; it was dinner time so everybody was inside their houses, eating. At least there was silence; there was silence until a warm voice broke it.

"Reggy? Is that you?"