Too Much

Five

The first time was when I was five. I don't remember it that much, just the anger and the pain. My mom told me it wasn't my fault. Ms. Ashley says it wasn't my fault too. I don't believe them though, I mean a father wouldn't beat his own son unless he had done something wrong, right?

I mean I didn't have to cry, I didn't have to be scared of the dark. I could have sucked it up and been a man like my dad told me too.

I remember that I had to go to the doctor and tell the lady I broke my hand falling down the stairs. That's where the bruises came from too. My mom took me out for ice cream after the visit. I think it was her way of apologizing. I don't know why she was apologizing though. She didn't hit me, or kick me, or slap me.

I remember my mom getting me a toy robot for my fifth birthday. She used all the money she had saved that year and got it for me. I remember being so excited because it was the first toy I had ever had in my life. Two weeks later my dad found it and broke it in half. I then got a black eye because I cried over the broken toy.

My mom sang me to bed that night. I can't remember the lyrics though, she stopped singing after the doctors gave her meds. But before all of that she would sing me a song before I fell asleep. It was my comfort at night.

I had a stuffed bear hidden under my bed so my dad couldn't find it and I use to hold it so tight at night. It made the nights better.