The Book Of Me & You

"Your Little Hand Wrapped Around My Finger"

The leaves rustled above his head. The tree he stood under, swaying heavily against the early December wind.

He took three steps to the left, waiting until the last person standing at the site, put the shovel in their hands down, and walked the opposite direction.

It was getting dark out, all the prior attendees long gone from the gravesite: Grieving for a monster they thought was a friend. Sheding tears for a man who violated the innocence of his child, as they wept loudly for his departure unknowing the hell he caused those closest to him.

But not him. He wouldn't shed one tear, or utter so much as a sniffle on his behalf. He was strictly there to witness the finality; to see the vile piece of scum who created him put into the ground where he'd never be able to hurt anyone again. He had to see it for himself to feel at peace with knowing he was truly gone, regardless of being the one who had to ID him at the morgue.

Taking a deep breath, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and closed his eyes, "... I don't know why I'm here. I don't want to be here. I don't want to even acknowledge you - I didn't in life, and I don't in death -" a shiver went down his spine shifting his feet atop the mound of dirt, "But I know if I don't get this off my chest, it'll consume me. And I won't put my family through anymore hurt and heartbreak, because of you..." Looking up at the sky, he bit his bottom lip before continuing, "So here goes... I hate you." He shook his head, fighting the ache in his chest, "I hate you for the childhood that I had. I hate you for your impatience; for being scared to do my homework while being yelled at; for all the kitchen drawers and cabinets you broke while you were drunk and in a rage; for all the knives you threw at the wall; for all the bottles left shattered on the floor, leaving glass everywhere that my feet stepped on and bled from... for slapping me... for spitting, kicking, and shoving me, and for all the bruises I had to carry as a token for being your son!"

His hand shook slightly, pressing it to his face to shield his lips from the wind, "I hate you for not feeling safe at home, or with the people who were supposed to love and protect me. I hate you for being so ashamed of me that you would've rather beat me than hug me. I hate you for the abuse you gave to my mother, and for being the man she was scared to stand up to..." His lip began to wobble, "I hate you for all the sex I started having at 14 to prove to myself that I could be loved... I hate you for causing this pain so deep inside that I wanted to beat the shit out of everyone for so long because of my anger..."

Closing his eyes, he took one long breath, releasing it into the nippy air, "... But most of all I hate you for making me feel so fucking worthless and disgusting that I allowed myself to use women like it was a game... hurt people the way I was hurt because I didn't love myself enough to understand it was wrong... I fucking hate you! I've wanted you dead since since the first time you violated me as a small child, and made me feel like the most disgusting thing on this earth!" A tear slid down his cheek, his voice getting rougher, "You took my innocence away from me! Stripped my childhood away for your own sick gratification! What kind of sick person defiles a child?" Bitting his lip so hard he tasted blood, "Why couldn't you just be normal and love me the way everyone else's dad's did? Why did you have to beat me and rape me? Why did you even have me if all you were going to do was use me as a punching bag and scar me for the rest of my life? Why didn't you love me!"

The tears fell down his cheeks even though he tried desperately to keep them in, the lump in his throat burning as his breath rattled in his lungs, "What did I do, huh? You stupid piece of shit - WHAT DID I DO? What did I do to be abused? To be tossed aside like garbage? To become damaged goods that everyone else has to contend with? Huh? WHAT DID I DO, BOB!"

Pressing his fingers into his eyes, Ricky kicked the dirt with the tip of his boot repeatedly until he began to pant against the wind stealing his breath and looked down at the ground, voice more controlled, "I want to scream... yell at the top of my lungs until they give out at you because you deserve it... but what good will it do now? You can't hurt me anymore... Never again will you be able to violate me, or me feel like trash... and I'm forever grateful that Amy, and my children, will never have to suffer with you lurking and plotting to destroy our lives, because you're a sick and demented son-of-a-bitch who deserves to rot in this ground! Another tear hit his jaw, "You may be my father by flesh and blood, but make no mistake - I will never acknowledge you as such. I will never shed one tear when asked about your passing, or mourn you in any facet. I will never come here again, understand?" The wind picked up, throwing a cluster of leaves across his boots, making his teeth clench tightly, "If you're down there listening to me and thinking you won because I didn't speak all of this at your hearing... you're wrong. I didn't speak because I would have torn you limb from limb with my bare hands - and Amy knew that. So you should be grateful to her for speaking and saving me the life sentence I would have gotten for killing you... guess your prison friends saved me the trouble..." He scoffed, running a hand over his face, "I'm done here. That's all I wanted to say, because now I cam move on with my life, and love my family the way a father is supposed to... while you rot in Hell - where you deserve to be."