Michelle Ma Belle

Chapter 13 - The Story of Roger

Saturday, September 15, 1973.

'' - Michelle Ma Belle, come back here, "I shouted at her. - Who are you?

"You know who I am, Roger." She smiled wryly at me, but I could not see her face.

"MICHELLE MA BELLE," I shouted.

Then I was in another place, in a large garden, walking and there were roses, lots of flowers, and in front of me, Kate ran, her blond hair flying in the wind and smiling beautifully.

"Kate, wait, come back here," I told her.

Kate was on my date and we were kissing each other in love.

Then I go to a dark place and I hear two male voices screaming at me, calling me back to them.

"Come back here, Taylor, I'm going to kill you!" One of the voices shouted.

At that moment I wake up totally sweaty, shit, I was dreaming and having a nightmare at the same time. I put my hand on my face and I look at Josephine lying next to me still asleep. It'snoon. I sigh heavily and lie back on the bed and think again of Kate, how was your dinner with Tim? I need to talk to my friend.

At that moment I begin to think everything that has happened to me, until now.

Flashback of Roger.

I was born on July 26, 1949, in Norfolk, King's Lynn. When he was seven years old and my younger sister Clare, three years, my parents, Winifred and Michael moved to Truro and we went to live in a new place. My father had got a job in a food industry and he worked as an inspector. My mother was a housewife and also a receptionist for a dental practice. When I was eight years old, I got a ukulele from my mother because she knew how to play the accordion since I was a child. I learned to play the instrument myself. At ten I got my mother an acoustic guitar and my older cousin taught me to play a little guitar, but I wanted to learn was actually playing drums. I would take my mother's pots and batter the pots, as if it were the drum plates, just as the knitting needles were drumsticks. At Christmas 1961, I got a simple battery from my father and then I made a band with Truro School students. I had got a scholarship at Truro School, because I sang in the choir at Truro Cathedral. My father was a violent man, he did not love my mother, much less Clare and me. He blamed us for being an early parent and not getting rich. He beat up my mother and me. I was a punching bag for Michael and he said he would never be a successful musician, who would not go into band, etc. He had no love for me, my mother and my sister. Time went by and everything got worse. My father beat us yet, but when he was almost 15 years, one Sunday, I stopped my father beat her mother and said he never lean against a finger on my mother and me. He then tried to beat Clare, but I also stopped him.

"You'll never put your rotten hands on my sister, you're a monster, Michael, MONSTER," he said irritably.

"I hate you, I HATE you," my father said.

"I hate you too," I told him, crying.

At that moment Michael beat me up and said,

"You're being beaten threefold by Clare, your mother, and you.

"Michael, can you hear me?" Michael stops beating Roger, you will kill our son - said my mother in tears.

"If Roger died today would not make any difference to me," my father said, at the height of his madness, beating me.

After he finished beating me I punched him and disoriented he left the house.

"He hates me, he never loved me," I said to my mother and sister and we held each other in tears.