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Remembrance [TL2018]

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posted on May, 12 2018 @ 11:42 AM
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Remembrance



“I love you, Son,” he said, bringing the belt down as hard as he could. I screamed out, wriggling in agony, desperately trying to cover my bare flesh. “Move your hands,” he ordered. I did, and the next lash fell. “I love you, Son,” he deadpanned. Of course, he did. He was my father. It was his job to love me. I deserved what I was getting. I don’t remember why, but I must have done something very wrong. My father only told me that he loved me when I was being punished. I squeezed my hands into fists, my nails biting into my palms. I didn’t even whimper when he hit me again. “I love you, Son.” So, that is what love felt like.

* * * * *



I am older now. My father is long dead. I have a wife, a mortgage, a dog, and three children. My youngest is my only son. His name is Gregory, and he is small for his age. I remember being taller when I was seven. He does not have any friends; I feel sorry for him. I would spend more time with him, but I work a lot. When I get home, I am too tired to do much more than sit down in front of the television, drain a six pack, and go to sleep. My eldest daughter, Elise, came to me tonight while I was doing just that; she woke me from a light doze.

“What is it,” I mumbled, sitting up in my armchair, beer still firmly in hand.
“It’s George,” she said, her voice shaking. “You need to come and see this.”
Rising from my chair, I had a sense of foreboding, but also of déjà vu. Something was not right, but it was something that had somehow never been right. We walked up the stairs from my mancave to the kitchen. We turned into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. We stopped in front of George’s door. Elise nodded at me.

As I walked inside, I flashed back to a memory. My father stood in the doorway of my room, looking at me, but staring past me, as if he were remembering something from long ago. In my hands, I held the corpse of a rabbit that I had caught in the back yard. I wanted to see what was inside, so I had borrowed a knife from the kitchen. I had started with the eyes, then begun the dissection in earnest. I think my sister must have told on me; those rabbits scream so loud. It wasn’t my fault. I was just a little boy. I didn’t know any better.

Gregory can scream loud as well. I was surprised. But as the belt came down, again and again, I reaffirmed with each lash what I knew to be true. “I love you, Son.”

THE END




posted on May, 14 2018 @ 08:18 PM
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a reply to: MisterMcKill

Wow.

Dark!

Nice story!



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 05:03 AM
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a reply to: MisterMcKill


That was just perfect
Well done!



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 09:54 AM
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Well, nightmares for me it is! Holy Moley...!

(My Dad was the same. He used to say one of two things as the can of whoop-ass was opened.

"I only do this because I love you."

or

"This is going to hurt me more than it is going to hurt you..."

Difficult logic for a young child to understand. Ahem...

I'm off to bed now without any supper. Sniff...



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 10:25 PM
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a reply to: DBCowboy

TY, DBC. We both had to make it a tiny bit sinister, I see.



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 10:26 PM
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a reply to: SprocketUK

I appreciate it! As for perfect... the editor in me wants to make some changes, but I will take any compliment that I can get!



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 10:29 PM
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a reply to: LightSpeedDriver

Yeah... my dad was... my dad. I guess I'll just leave that there. Despite my name, I was not into mutilating small creatures. He always punished me for things that I didn't do. Sigh. I hope you did not experience the same. But thanks for the support!



posted on May, 19 2018 @ 10:29 PM
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DP
edit on 19-5-2018 by MisterMcKill because: Double Post.



posted on May, 21 2018 @ 06:59 AM
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a reply to: MisterMcKill

You know what they say, "spare the rod and spoil the child".

I too was not spoiled. Sometimes I though I was going to be "loved" to death.



posted on May, 21 2018 @ 01:14 PM
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originally posted by: tinymind
a reply to: MisterMcKill

You know what they say, "spare the rod and spoil the child".

I too was not spoiled. Sometimes I though I was going to be "loved" to death.


I know the feeling... literally lol. It is my view that, as in the case of this story, it is sometimes necessary. The problem is when children are unnecessarily disciplined. I spank my son. I tell him that I love him. But I was straight up abused as a child. There is a line. I know where it is, and I will never cross it. The story made me uncomfortable, but it is something that is not discussed much these days. It used to be taken for granted not very long ago. When is that sort of discipline justified? And no, I never murdered rabbits lol!



posted on May, 25 2018 @ 10:37 AM
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Nice job, McKill. I remember being spanked when I was kid. Not abused. One strike, open hand. That was usually enough for me.
Didn't do it much to my boys, and now, taking away their electronics privileges is a much better deterrent to bad behavior LOL.



posted on May, 25 2018 @ 03:42 PM
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originally posted by: PrairieShepherd
Nice job, McKill. I remember being spanked when I was kid. Not abused. One strike, open hand. That was usually enough for me.
Didn't do it much to my boys, and now, taking away their electronics privileges is a much better deterrent to bad behavior LOL.


Thank you. It's so weird, because I never had electronics growing up (unless the OG Nintendo counts). Now I either take away the devices or make them do pushups or do a mile or two on the bike. I hate spanking. And yet, there are times. I remember one of them was when my son booked it out the door and ran into the middle of the street. He almost got hit by a car. That was a spanking offence. Because I love him, and better my hand than a motor vehicle...




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