Enternal Damages

Let The Games Begin

May 5th, 1994, Phoenix Arizona,  I'm late. I've got to finish the dishes on time otherwise no breakfast And since I didn't have dinner last night,  I have to make sure I get something to eat. My grandfather running around yelling at my cousin's. I can hear him stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen. I dip my hands back into the scalding rinse water. It's too late, he catches me with my hands out of the water SMACK! My grandfather slashed my face with his fists, as i toppled onto the floor, I know better to stand there and take the hit. I learned the hard way that he takes that as an act of defiance, which means more hits or sexual pleasure, I regain my posture as I doge his looks, as he screams into my ears. I act timid as I was nodding to his threats "Please" I say to myself, "No more games" "I don't want to play anymore" Another blow pushes my head against the tile counter top. I let the tears  mock defeat stream down my face, As he storms out the room. After I counted his steps, making sure he was gone, I let out a cry of relief, The act worked,  He can beat me all he wants, But i am not going to let him take my pride. I finish the dishes, then my other chores. For my reward I receive breakfast--- leftovers from one of my cousin's cereal bowls. Today it's Lucky Charms. There are only a few bits of cereal left in a half of a bowl of milk, but quickly as I can, I swallow it before Grandfather changes his mind. He has done that before, My grandfather enjoys using food as his weapon. He knows better than throwing leftovers in the garbage can. He knows I'll dig it out later on. Grandfather knows most of my tricks. Minutes later I'm in the old family station wagon. Because I'm so late with my chores, I have to be driven to school. Usually I run to school, arriving just in time as class begins, with no time too steal any food from other kids lunch boxes. Grandfather drops my oldest cousin off, but keeps me for a lecture about his plans for me tomorrow. He is going to take me to his brother's house. He says Uncle Charlie will "take care of me" He makes it a threat. I give him a frightened look as if I am truly afraid, But I know that even though my uncle is a hard-nosed man, he surely won't treat me like Grandfather does.     Before the station wagon comes to a complete stop, I dash out of the car. Grandfather yells for me to return. I have forgotten my crumpled lunch bag, which has always had the same menu for the past three years- two peanut butter sandwiches, and a few carrot sticks. Before I bolt out of the car again, he says, "Tell em, you ran into the door." Then in a voice he rarely uses with me, he states" Have a nice day" I look into his swollen red eyes. He still has a hangover from last night's frazzled clumps.     Because I am so late, I have to report to the administrative office, The gray-haired secretary greets me with a smile. Moments later, the school nurse comes out and leads me into her office. where we go through the normal routine examines my face and arms. "What's that above your eye?" she asked.

    I nod sheepishly, " Oh, I ran into the hall door...

by accident.

    Again she smiles and takes a clipboard from the top of a cabinet. She flips through a page or two, then bends down to show me. "Here" she points to the paper, "You said that last Monday" Remember?"     I quickly change my story, " I was playing baseball and got hit by the bat. It was an accident. Accident, I'm always suppose to say that, But the nurse knows better. She scolds me to tell the truth, I always breakdown in the end and confess everything even though I should protect my grandfather. The nurse tells me I'll be  fine and ask me to take my clothes off. We been doing this since last year, So I immediately obey. My long sleeve- shirt has more holes than Swiss Cheese. It's the same shirt I've worn for almost two years. My pants were just as bad, and my shoes had holes in the toes, While I stand clothed only in my underwear, the nurse records my various marks and bruises on the clipboard. She counts the slash- like marks on my face, looking for any she might have missed in the past. She is very through. Next, the nurse opens my mouth to look at my teeth that are chipped from having been slammed against the kitchen tile counter top. She jots a few more notes on the paper. As she continues to look me over, she stops at the old scar on my stomach. "And that," she says as she takes a long deep swallow, "is where he stabbed you?"