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When Micheal greets the grounds, I am washing the bowls. We have done eating a few minutes ago. Mother went back to her room which is where she spends three fourth of her time. One fourth goes to  Micheal's room. When he isnt there, she sometimes likes to go there and punch his and Paris's pillow and cut a few of his clothes. If he ever learns what has been happening to his clothes, I will be in so much trouble.. Because I will own up to cutting his clothes to protect mother from her own childish behavior.

Micheal doesnt wake up at this hour of time, so im surprised, but I dont make any moves or expression that may implicate I recognize his presence as long as I can. I would love to ignore him altogether and I would do a perfect job at that If he did let me not recognize him. He likes to know he is realized, seen, heard, bowed.

"Morning, love."

Thats me. Thats how he calls me. To my dislike. "Morning." I tell him. If you do not respond to him you will probably find a mark of his fingers on your arm. Where he hurts differs according to to what degree you angered him. He is smart. He never slaps or punches or beats. He just has us know that he is capable of anything and everything so that we are in 'line'.

"Paris will be gone for two days. You can sleep in my bed if you want. Its more comfortable, you know? Ill sleep on the floor."

There you go. It doesnt come from the good in his heart. Im guessing the good existed in his heart at some point in his life but for some reason, mother issues or father issues or existensial issues -Although, Im not positive he has the capacity to have existensial issues-, that good part has gone bad. If the good never existed, it would be much better because this way the good that has gone bad is reeking and smothering everthing else in its wake, even the bad, and that is worse.

"Im sure JJ will like that. We'll sleep on your bed, yeah, ok." This is the only way I can avoid the passes he makes. You can not directly turn him down. You have to make something up so he knows it is not because you dont want to do it, but because some other reason is holding you back.

He crunches his face, but not at me. He thinks that i would love to sleep in his bed but i, unfortunatelly -thank God- cant. If he knew that i just never would lie in his bed alive, i wouldnt probably be alive. Not physically. I would be dead inside, i would just wish to die physically which i would never get because he wouldnt let me go that easily.

"Nah, you sleep where you are with JJ. I like that you look after my boy."

He likes that and it provides me home. I need to come up with ideas that will provide me home after JJ becomes capable of looking after himself. Maybe, Fane will need me, too, to look after him. You wouldnt think that Paris is parent material, though she has done a quite alright job at that until now. Must I hope that she stumbles and falls?

"Always.." I tell him as i finish up rinsing the bowls. We dont have a dishwasher. I am the dishwasher.

"Ill go sleep a few more hours. Wake me up if you need anything."

Dont fall for his helpful attitude. He is anything but.

I nod my head.

JJ is in the bathroom playing on his own. Mother doesnt like to see him in our room and the living room is too much in sight. So, he chooses to play in the bathroom. He doesnt have any toys, though. I dont know what he plays with, but i am always amazed by that boy's imagination. He plays with his imagination, obviously.

Sundays always go by, trying to decide what to do with my life. When I work, there is no time to think. When Im home, there is nothing to do other than think.

We are not allowed to turn the tv on. Im sure I could get permission from Micheal but that would require giving up some important thing and  it would open up the door for him to try and make deals with me. When he gets his way once, he always gets his way. So, you never give in to him.

I decide to do something different, other than waiting for night to come over today. I decide to take a walk.

Thats a change.

We are not allowed to do anything that is not a life or death issue without Micheal knowing. We have to ask him first. I guess i should be glad that he lets us use the bathroom without asking him first, but thats probably because he cant be bothered with our intestinal issues. Intestinal issues and Micheal. Intestinal and Micheal. Intestine and Micheal. Intestine Micheal. I hope he doesnt read this. Does he know how to read? I dont know.

Today's different. Today, I will go for a walk. He will be asleep a few more hours and I decide i am going to make the best of these few hours. My idea of making the best of a few hours is walking.

When I tell mother of my plans, I can actually read the fear from the lines across her face. Actually, one more line might have just rooted itself in the hollow part that was formed in an earlier instance of Micheal-caused fear.

One of Micheal's favorite methods is that he likes to punish someone other than you for something you did. Its a torture. So, I never do anything that may tip him off and make him go after JJ or mother or even little Fane. I even dont want him to go after Paris, sometimes. She is a good girl. In bad hands.

"What about Micheal?"

"What about him?"

"He'll be upset."

Upset? She means mad. This is her being not so obvious. "He's asleep." I shrug. I shrug? Like me going for a walk without getting permission from Micheal isnt a big thing, i shrug, too.

"Whats going on Mary?" She takes a tentative step towards me.

"Nothing. Im just going for a walk." I am. I am just.

"Micheal will kill you."

You see the change in her words? He was going to be upset, at first. Now, he is gonna kill me. Thats his true self. Mother just likes to act as if it doesnt exist. It does.

"Micheal doesnt have the guts to kill someone. He just tortures." It is true. He doesnt have the guts to kill someone because he likes himself too much to just get blood on his hands. He also hates tears. He hates it when Fane cries, too, even though it is only natural that a baby cries. He hates when nature disobeys him. He hates when mother nature disobeys him. He hates mother. Mother hates him.

"I'll make him go after JJ if you go and he realizes."

She never even stops to think where her sentence is heading. She just utters those words. She refuses to recognize the fact that JJ is her son. Not mine.

"He doesnt listen to you anymore." I, obviously,dont stop to think of what im saying either. I would never tell her the truth like that. She cant handle the truth even thought she knows it in her heart. She would never have it thrown at her face and I would never throw it at her face, but today's different. Why is that?

Her eyebrows get higher and higher as it sinks in that I just told her that her husband doesnt listen to her anymore considering he has a girlfriend and a son with said girlfriend. She would faint right that moment if I told her he was making passes at me, too.

That would be too far and I never get too far. Except the time with the owner of the Beetle.

The times, in fact.

The owner of the Beetle... Auden. Auden who? I dont know. I dont know his surname but I know that if Micheal knows I gave it up to this man other than him, he would torture me in ways that would make me say I wish Id given myself to him first.

"Dont you dare pull that attitude with me."

"There is no attitude. He doesnt listen to anybody or anything other than the voices in his head that makes him who he is." I console her.

"Dont talk about him that way. He's your father."

She has no idea how twisted that sounds.

Her words about him used to be infused with love and joy and white and pink colored dreams. She always referred to him as my dad from the day she brought him home and caused the said home to change to this area where he calls the tune and the shots, and wear the pants. And all the other preverbs that you can think of that expresses he is the authority around here.

"Im just going for a walk. Its ok." I nod my head to emphasize my words.

I am just going for a walk.