Touched the son . . . .

May 24, 2011 § 24 Comments

Saturday’s were always the same. Wait for my Dad to let us out of our bedroom, usually after he’d been to the toilet. Go downstairs – quietly. Sit on the sofa in silence, making sure our feet weren’t up on the cushions. Wait for Mum to come downstairs to see if she had a black-eye, I couldn’t look at her if she did – Dad would stare and frown at me. Dad had the bushiest eyebrows in the world, they scared me. Dad scared me.

Dad would sit in his usual chair beside the door to the stairs reading his paper. He was the gatekeeper to all of our nice things in our bedrooms. You see, I couldn’t have toys downstairs, it would make too much of a mess, plus Dad doesn’t like the noise children make. And I couldn’t play upstairs because the noise from the ceiling would disturb him while he did the crossword in the paper. I understood, he needed to concentrate. Sometimes I don’t know why Mum and Dad had children. There are three of us, me – the eldest, my younger brother and my youngest sister.

My sister is from a different man. Mum said that’s why my Dad was so angry all of the time and took his anger out on her. But that doesn’t explain why he took his anger out on me. Why I made him so mad and why he threatened to put me in a children’s home if I did anything wrong. It doesn’t explain why he would smack my face so hard it felt like it was touching the sun and shouted like he was trying to crumble the house to the ground, if I looked at him in a certain way. It also, doesn’t explain why I was locked away in the cupboard above the stairs and couldn’t come down, all day, to play with my friend. I could hear my friend laughing outside, playing with his other friends. Maybe I was a bad child and I deserved it.

If I could talk to my Dad, if he would listen, I would ask him what was wrong. I would tell him I loved him and I didn’t mean to be naughty. I would tell him, he could love me and I would loved him back for always. I would explain that I didn’t mean to make him mad, I used to have dreams about that.

I used to have dreams . . . Saturdays were happy days.

I used to have dreams . . . I was happy.

This piece was inspired by prompt “I used to dream” on the bekindrewrite site from their InMon XIII page. I have just started writing. I am using my blog to experiment and find my natural style. I would love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!


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§ 24 Responses to Touched the son . . . .

  • Once again you have nearly brought tears to my eyes. You have a way of writing that possesses a rare gift, it evokes true emotion in the reader. Cherish that gift, and never let it go.

    Cyber Hug coming your way!


    • Bayley Trew says:

      Hi Marantha. Again, thank you so much for your warm comments. I am loving that you are enjoying my writings. I promise to continue.

      Cyber hug back at you. ;o)

  • Jinx says:

    Wow! I love your interpretation of this! When I first got the idea for this prompt I wouldn’t have put it with this idea, but I love it here. It’s entirely amazing. =]

    • Bayley Trew says:

      Hi Jinx, I appreciate you taking the time to comment on my story and thank you for your compliments. This is actually my story and wanted to put into writing somehow. When I saw the prompt, it just made sense. I didn’t change a word after I’d written it, which is not like me at all. Again, thank you.

      • Jinx says:

        Wow, see now I’m even more impressed. I cannot write my own story. It doesn’t work. It’s too close to me so I can’t communicate it right.

      • Bayley Trew says:

        Hey Jinx. I totally emphasise and understand what you mean, but because I had such a turbulent upbringing it helps me deal with the events. Great therapy. Thank you for your comment.


  • A very true portrayal of what so many children experience. Well done!

  • Fantastic work. Especially the parts about Mom’s black eye and Dad’s bushy eyebrows – just (again!) that childlike innocence that makes the darkness hit harder. I really hope you’ll participate in the Super Secret Project…and no, I’m not going to tell you what it is yet. Just a heads-up. : )

    • Bayley Trew says:

      thank you for your lovely comment. I will most certainly participate. When do we get to know what the secret project is? I am so intrigued . . . . please, please tell.

  • Carl says:

    This is a great write. The true reality behind the writing shines through in the true sadness.

    • Bayley Trew says:

      Thank you for your compliment Carl. I find it easier to write from my life and if I have physically or mentally experienced something. I will drop by your blog at some point to repay the compliment.

  • Powerfully heartwrenching. Children always take it on thinking they are the cause and if only they could change then everything would change.
    You wrote this well…and without having to rewrite a word, too. That shows where it was coming from – your heart.
    Thank you!

    • Bayley Trew says:

      Hi there, thank you so much for reading my piece. As I have mentioned on a few occasions, I find writing about my own experiences leads to more meaningful pieces. I can still feel as I did when I was younger, which I now understand, is a powerful tool for writing. I maybe finding my own style and voice, who knows, I am enjoying the journey. Thank you again for your kind words.

  • loustar02 says:

    Such a sad story and so real – I really felt for him. Beautifully written.

  • pattisj says:

    Such a sad story, Bayley.

  • Bayley Trew says:

    I totally agree, you are so right, we are blessed. I suppose we all have our stories of hurt, suffering and anguish but it’s how we use it to shape our lives and who we are. It has definitely made me a stronger person and better father than I’d had. Thank you for your reply.

  • amaliasstory says:

    Not many people possess the ability to turn bad memories into wonderfully written stories, that have the power to touch others the way yours did. Well done 🙂

    • Bayley Trew says:

      thank you for commenting, it means a lot. I find releasing the memories helps me greatly and I do understand that other people experience the same things. So if I touch someone in a positive way through my writing, it makes it all the more worth while. Thank you.

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