Will this nightmare ever end? my shaking hand scribbles into a journal.
In a swift movement, I hide it under the mattress and glance at the glaring red numbers on the digital clock.
0300…in two short hours it begins again…I wonder what fresh hell he has in store for me today?
Snuffing out the light, I drift into a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning throughout the early morning hours.
I wake with a start, as my heart jumps from my chest. The second pound nearly sends the door off its hinges.
“Get up! It’s 0500. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I spring out of bed as if catapulted and race to the bathroom.
By 0523, I sit strait-backed at the kitchen table and stare into the chiseled features and dense, black eyes of my dad.
“I expect you back here at exactly 1515. Is that clear?”
I nod, but remain silent.
His right arm jets out and backhands me across the face. My lip splits and blood trickles down my chin.
“Answer me, you pussy.”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
He pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket and throws it at me.
“Wipe you lip and pray that you’re not late.” He glares at me. “Get out of my sight.”
After picking up the dishes, I give them a quick wash, and head toward the front door…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Another high school. Great. What number is this one? 3? 4? This is such bull.
As the day progresses, two unexpected things happen to me…
I meet a blind dude. But not just any blind dude. This one has a story, and the writer in me needs to find it out.
Plus,
I meet a hot, red-headed chick. This girl’s curves race in all the right directions.
After class, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I follow Danny home, putting Tanya on hold for the time being.
And now…
It’s 1525 as I pull into the drive and screech to a halt.
I jump out of my old pick-up and rocket up the stairs two at a time.
“Aidan!”
The keys slip from my hand and crash hard on the wooden planks of the porch.
Shit! I’m so screwed.
“You’re late! Get your sorry ass in here.”
I scoop up the keys and fumble for the right one.
The key barely skims the lock as the door bursts open and Dad drags me into the living room.
“I can explain—”
“Save it.”
He shoves me against the wall. His breath reeks of alcohol, causing my eyes to water.
“What did I tell you about coming home on time?”
His eyes bulge, expanding to twice their usual size.
I tense and wait for the blow…
Nine more months. Hang on Aidan, it’s just nine more months.
A fiery, hot burning sears my ribs, and I crash to the floor…
Portrait of a Teenage Military Brat
by
Michael Di Gesu’
Will Aidan live long enough to see his eighteenth birthday and escape his father’s abuse?
Time is not on his side.
Now you know…This is the intro for MY BOOK! Although not published yet, there is interest. You guys will be the first to know when I have a contract. In the meantime I wanted you all to see a glimpse into Aidan’s world.
It’s terrifying.
It’s intense.
It’s real.
So many teens are abused by alcoholic parents. We all need to be aware of this. The statistics are staggering.
But thankfully there is hope. With media attention and special programs there is help for these families.
I hope you “enjoyed”… (okay, maybe this isn’t the right word.) my intro… Several of you had queried me about what the intro for my book would be… well here it is. LOL
Tomorrow is the end of ANOTHER week of the A-Z! Congrats to ALL OF US! We all deserve a pat on the back!
See you tomorrow!
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