Today, I felt sick at school. The sculpture class has been going to the elementary school to teach them to make either pinch or coil pots, so I was walking back from there. The sun was hot today, and medicine I had taken was starting to wear off. (if you're a boy, count your blessings, cuz you never have to deal with THIS) So I felt sick and I was getting way too hot and I was also getting tired from walking. I went straight to the nurse's office ("nurse" hah) and demanded to call home to get picked up.
After about an hour and 20 minutes later, mum still hadn't shown up. I called again, and she said she'd take a little longer to get there, since the sheriff's deputy was at the house.
So I laid down for about ten more minutes, wondering what the hell was going on. Mum showed up, I got out of the school, and in the car, she finally told me what had been going on. Sis was in the passenger's seat, too, which I thought was odd. Lately, she's been doing the payroll for the plastics factory that the family owns, a job which grandma would usually do, but she's been losing her memory. And of course, dad's rampant spending of our grocery money and bill money on DVDs and other worthless shit he doesn't need/already has, has prompted us to demand he only gets $100 out of his paycheck, since he doesn't pay bills. He also left us without grocery money for about two weeks. Anyways, Sis has been doing the payroll. She was holding an unwritten paycheck for him (why he still gets a fuckin paycheck is a mystery to me), sitting in her car with the windows half-open when he comes over and reaches in, grabs her arm, and says he'll break it if she doesn't give him his paycheck, even though he "hates talking like this." Hates talking like that my ass. He talks like that all the time, just never physical threats...
So the sheriff's deputy was at the house and told dad to use some anger management techniques. Sis decided to not file charges, though a report was definitely filed of the incident.
This is why I keep a knife by my bed and had a pair of handcuffs at the ready; I knew dad would go this way eventually... Even if I don't want to hurt him, I will if I have to.
11 comments:
Don't stab yourself. O.o
I don't really worry about getting hurt by other people. I'm very carefree. Somebody threatened to shoot some people at my school tomorrow and I don't have a second thought about going. I just always feel safe. Perhaps it is because I am being watched by my guardian angel, Chuck Norris.
Peace.
just be sure he isn't busy over at the virgin islands--
ooohh wait...
there he goes again...
islands. no "virgin" on that. not anymore...
woah woah...
This is like the exact same thing that happened to a friend of mine once. She even had the knife too. I convinced her to loose the knife and at about that same moment, her dad walked in the room. Instead of stabbing her rampaging dad, she acted like a little angel and it was kinda hard for me not to laugh. But the thing is, her dad instantly fell for it, his rage just gone.
My advice...
Loose the knife, occasionally give your dad hugs and tell him how much you love him (even though it'd probably kill ya). But honestly, Tele, even though he may be a complete asshole, you won't ever have another dad.
Seriously. He may be crazy but he's still a person. If he were to come into your room or something and you start stabbing him, it would be blood on YOUR hands.
I know my opinion doesn't mean much but I don't think you should worry he is your father he will never hurt you there it is my opinion.
k for one thing... i'm not just gonna murder him at random. that knife is for self defense, or defense of other family members. secondly, i know he is a person, but damnit, look what he's done: built up miles of debt, made mum feel like she's a failure, made my sister angry all the time, threatened my sister... there's more stuff that i can't remember cuz i'm dumb like that, but you get the picture. and i don't care if i never get another dad. i don't want this one, that's for damn sure. all he does is try to brown-nose me with his stupid presents and whatever.
I've a story to tell. I had a friend ounce, when I was about 8. He only had one leg, beleive he lost it in an accident. But, anyways. His dad killedboth him and the boy's mom, then set the house on fire. I know this seems bad, pushing more presure to be afraid, but it's best to be wary of everyone. Including parents. You never know what can happen. Hell, my dad literally split my head open when I was only 5. Split. My. Head. Open.
5 . . . 6.... something. When I was younger.
<.> that's no fair...
but yeah, see, guys, the thing is that my dad does all these terrible things to us and he doesn't give a shit, thinking we're the ones in the wrong. and i know i'll only get ONE dad, but hell, if my ONE dad is gonna be this way, then i'd rather not have one at all.
My dad is the nicest, bestest man ever. Srsly.
,>.<,
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