I tested murky waters. Often when things were unclear in my life it seemed nearly impossible to get out of the muck surrounding me. Looking beneath the rocks of insecurity, I found I was no longer able to sneak by the fountain of thought with out dipping my brain into its waters where thoughts towered over the magnitude of the fortnight. Captured by the songs of fear, my heart stampeded across the deserted highway leading into nowhere. I fumbled, and often stalled, because of the misery surrounding my soul, enraptured by a drudged up past.
Beneath the rocks of insecurity, there are even deeper realms of darkness. The rotten side of the platitude leading me down into the infirmary with no escape from the fires consuming my soul. Shaken by what I saw in my dreams of a nightly basis, the monsters and demons choking me, and causing me to gasp for air where symbols of a childhood gone wrong. For the monsters choking me were the element of my father, who often choked me when I didn’t meet his expectations. Or perhaps it stems back to when I was eleven years old sick in bed with pneumonia.
At the time, I was in my bed, playing with my Smarty Pants doll. There was a button on her where if it was pushed in, she would talk. My father came home on afternoon from I don’t know where. He burst through my bedroom doors, ran over to my bed, took my doll, through it against the closet door, and smashed it to pieces. Next thing I knew, he grabbed a hold of my neck with his hands wrapped firmly around it, and clamped down. He shook my throat and neck, nearly crushing my windpipe.
I couldn’t scream, because he blocked my air. It was then, I knew I was going to die.
My great-grandfather’s bedroom was on the other side of the wall. Unexpectedly, he dashed in with his belt, because he heard the loud bang in my room. He saw what my father was doing to me, and struck him in the head with the belt buckle end of the belt repeatedly, shouting, “I’m not going to let you hurt my great-grand daughter. Leave her alone. Leave her alone,” in a dangerous voice. He had fire in his eyes when he came to my rescue. It was as if he had the spirit of the Lord within him.
My father fell backwards, crawling to the far corner of the room, as my grandfather struck him repeatedly in the head. He screamed to my great-grandfather, “This is none of you business. She costs us so much money. She’s nothing but a burden to her mother and me. I don’t want her around.”
“I kill you before I let you get rid of my great-grand daughter. There’s no way I’ll stand by, and allow you to hurt her. You no good piece of garbage. Kiki is a smart girl. I’m very proud of her. I don’t want you around. But I have no choice but to endure you. Even so, I will not allow you to hurt my great-grand daughter. Be gone you evil tyrant,” he shouted to my father as he continued to strike him repeatedly with the belt buckle end of the belt.
Tears flowed uncontrollably from my father’s eyes, as he begged to my great-grandfather, “Stop. Mercy. I want mercy. I can’t take it anymore. Stop, you stupid old man.”
“You never showed my great-granddaughter mercy, and there’s no way I’ll do the same for you. I’m going to keep striking you in the head until I knock some sense into you,” my grandfather shouted in a controlled voice.
Blood flowed from my father’s forehead. However, my great-grandfather showed him no mercy. He continued striking my father until his arm got tired, and he said, “Go! Get out of her now, you piece of filth. Stay out of my way. Stay out of my great-granddaughter’s way, if you know what’s good for you.”
My great-grandfather saved my life. When all seems lost, there is always some kind of miracle God sends our way. Mine was an angel on Earth in the form of my great-grandfather.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015