Anthrax: Part 1, The Flame Ignites

The Flame Ignites

I specifically remember a single moment about 16 years ago. It was a moment unlike any other that I had ever experienced. It marked the first time that I truly realized the person that my father was and the cruel, cruel reality that I had been born into. I was just sitting in my living room with three of my friends playing a lighthearted game of Monopoly. The day was my 7th birthday. "God fucking dammit, Sharon!" I heard echoed from down the hall. I could feel my hands start to tremor and cold droplets of sweat begin to drip down my forehead as I knew that my father's temper had been awakened and what horrors were to come next I could never tell. "Why don't you ever listen to me, bitch?" I heard screamed from across the house. After a loud thud followed by the terrified shriek from what could only be my mother, I decided it was time to send my friends home. "Uhm guys, I think you'll have to go. It's past my bedtime," I quietly muttered to my friends. With a concerned squint, Tyler asked, "What's going on back there? Are you in trouble or something?" My friend did not have the slightest idea of the sheer gravity of the situation that he had just been confronted with and opening up about the truth could do nothing but cause more harm. "It's nothing. They're just arguing. All married people do it I hear," I answered as I scanned the room. "I guess. Well, see you at school Brandon," Tyler replied as he picked up his picked up his Power Rangers backpack and began marching towards the door with my other two buddies. After hearing the door come to an abrupt shut against the screen door, I was beyond scared. In fact, I was petrified. I was used to my father blowing up at my mom and causing havoc throughout the house, but he had never lost his temper like that when we had guests in the house. My mind was full of questions, did he want my friends to know how cruel he could be for some twisted reason? Was he so angry that he didn't care about what consequences might arise from his tantrums anymore? Was it my fault that my father couldn't control himself? The loud crackle of glass being thrown to the floor pierced my eardrums as my tormentor walked towards the room. My father stood at 6'3 with the build of an ox with intense blue eyes that seemed to creep into my soul and a series of scars on his face from a plethora of bar fights. "What's going on out here? Where did your friends go?" My father asked as he looked me dead in the eye. "Nothing...they just had to go home. It was past their bedtime," I murmured nervously. "Son, it's not even 8 o' clock. It's not past anyone's fucking bedtime. Are you planning on telling me why they really left?" He barked as his face began to slowly redden and he walked over to the chair I was sitting in. "That's really it, daddy. That's what happened," I innocently responded. "Don't you fucking lie to me!" He screamed as he knocked a few plates and several glass pieces to the floor with a single swing of his enormous arm. I shuttered as I watched glass go everywhere and my father get angrier and angrier by the second as he flailed his arms all around and paced back and forth. He then grabbed hold of my arm with a grip that could have sent a grown man into tears. "You're going to tell me the truth right here and right now. You're going to show me some damn respect, boy. You better start talking before I whack those tears off your face," he ordered with a menacing grin. "Ow, ouch. Please let go. Okay I didn't want them hearing you hurt mommy," I cried. "You think there's something wrong with the way I treat your mother? You think I don't work my fingers to the bone only to be disrespected by that fucking woman?" he screamed right in my ear as he continue to terrify me with the look of his cold, harsh eyes. "I don't kn.." I began to stammer as tears began streaming down my cheeks and I lost my ability to form comprehensible speech. Next, an eardrum piercing smack to the face set my entire body off balance. "You're gonna love and respect your father. You would have nothing if it wasn't for me, you ungrateful little shit!" He yelled out as I took off running. I rapidly pushed through the screen door and sprinted as fast as my tiny legs could carry me. I ended up once again knocking on my grandparents' door out of nowhere with not a single word to be said, telling them nothing and everything with the look of despair that covered my face.