In bed with an Alien

Fear of the dark Chapter- 4

There are certain things you never forget in life: the first bike, the first kiss, the first smartphone ...Or when your old lady decides to wake up the whole house by breaking all the glassware and decides to freak out.

 You literally step on broken glass. No more husband, children or family. It is asking for accounts in summary rite. End of conversation.Everything at the beginning is too difficult. Only the return was worse and more difficult. You look at a stranger's face and the features are vaguely familiar. It's just a document with the name of a person you don't know on your certificate. It's kind of like sweeping the house and putting the dirt under the rug.We even pretend to forget. And it is a lie. 

Psychological tortures are never forgotten. They stay for a lifetime. Probably when I was able to do therapy for the rest of my life.But I survived all of that and I consider myself a winner. She hated waking up in the morning listening to the sound of glass shattering and the metallic clash of pots falling from cupboards and shelves ... It happened a lot when she heard no. And the psychological blackmail ... I almost died from a stomach ulcer.

Words. Why hit or beat if words leave deep marks that you never forget? They come back when you least expect it. Man, these things hurt and mark you for a lifetime. My old woman was the best.You will always be a loser. It will never be anything in life!I had managed to get into college and even managed to get a scholarship. 

Then, when I left home and tried to stay in the same city, things got a little complicated. he had even achieved better health and gained a few pounds.I'll kill you. I'll get the car keys and pass it over you.Those words always end up echoing in my mind every time the discipline failed. On nights when I woke up scared or nervous about the damn nightmares or sleeplessness. And nobody ever suspected the respectable Mrs. Nordans.

 It is always the question of appearance that mattered to society. A respected lady in the social environment in which she lived. Who was going to say, right? I was just the problem son.I remember the time I hid under the bed and she threatened to set it on fire while holding the broom. I preferred that she never came back. And she knew it while staging the Oscar of the Year. Had a sadistic pleasure in pushing myself to the limit with threats until she saw myself cry.

You will die alone and in misery. Never, never will your a winner like me. I will kill you as you do with pigs.

I can still remember her saying this while holding two kitchen knives, sharpening the blades against each other.The first thing that made me wake up was exactly the certainty that the threats were now real. The well-known feeling of fear and danger. And the pains. The memories came back at a breakneck pace.

Am I stuck again? I ran away ... I managed to run away from her ...

It took a few moments for my breathing to return to normal. I wanted to scream showing everyone that it was not the ungrateful son they found me. Fear ... was not my favorite friend.I had believed that all that was in the past.

The freshman party-ah, no, the freshman party-the initiation of the fraternity-oh, God, not the initiation of the fraternity- the van-ai, not the van, please. The drinking and the group of veterans. Please do not. I felt awful. Destroyed.I know that people are prejudiced whenever someone is different.

Where was your wits, Mike? Why did they let you do this to you? , I thought.

Could you have screamed at the top of your lungs what was happening? And for what? Nobody believed. If there's one thing I hate about life, it's when I say something and say it's a lie. I remember the shame and passing my head down in the city where she lived when she pretended to be dead. And my father who liked her looking for her to be buried with the family. I even cried. Then there was the return of the dead. Everyone commenting. And she came back triumphantly, distilling the poison, ignoring our distress.