The Creature was only nine years old when I first met it, opposing my thirty-three years. I sat down on the bench beside it, and the first thing it did was to dig it's sharp claws into my left forearm, no doubt to elicit a reaction. I didn't flinch, but asked calmly, why would you do that?

It smiled at me, and giggled.

From there our relationship was tainted. It never had a father, and I was a fool to think I could take the place of what it expected as much, but such is in retrospect, mistakes made, and nothing left but to tell the story with hopes that others may avoid my errors. The Creature still haunts me, as I invited it into my house once, and it has never left since, stay for a brief incursion into reality to torture another living soul, but it's foray was brief, and I believe it enjoys inflicting mental anguish on me. Let me digress a bit further.

A nasty divorce incorporating infidelity left me with no desire to share my company with another female, so I raised the two offspring from that ill-fated union on my own, when the courts provided me with visitation rights, liberally modified by my attorney and I, and I never missed a day that I was allowed to have my first two children. My original dream, my goal for the future, was to create four children, a sole union with a female, and to raise a family accordingly. Such idyllic dreams were founded within me at an early age, and following my heart's whispering, I married the first time at age twenty-four. Eight years later, my original dreams were completely shattered, and for the next three years I was a single father by choice, cursing the courts, the ex, her lover, and my own short-sightedness. It took time to heal. I remained alone, and devised a new plan for the future.

Not dating or being distracted by a companion, I decided to search the interwebs for a new mate. The years within my self-inflicted prison caused me to cry myself to sleep at night, ever longing for the ideal companion, and in my dreams I began to formulate what she would be like. In an interim that seemed like eternity, I found a blogging website, and poured my soul into it. My hatred for a corrupt system of justice began to ebb, and I decided to let myself heal, enjoying my time with my kids, and blogging on a daily basis helped to ease the pain of being alone. My friends began to worry about me, for the simple fact that I was single, and not interested in dating. Little did they know what my hours spent in a blogging community were doing, and little did they know what I wanted out of life. I was coerced by them at different times to go on "blind" dates, match making in reality, yet all the dates had flaws I couldn't deal with. I was simply not interested in settling for second best, and I wanted to find my next partner on my own, and somehow, I knew I'd find her on the interwebs.

In retrospect, you can map out your life in your own mind, decide what you want, and set out to achieve it, but reality doesn't give a damn about what you think. Life always has a curve ball to toss in your direction. Which it did.

Sure, I found her. She was hiding under pages and pages of electronic noise, in the blogging community that I was and still am a member of. She lived an hour and a half away. She was hot, sexy, witty, and very wise. She also had been single for three years. She matched the woman I was dreaming about and she had a nine year old daughter that she was raising on her own. All I needed was one more child, and I could repair the original plans that I had in life, and I told her everything about myself. There were none of the usual "red flags" that occur, and I was sick and tired of being alone in bed at night.

The first day we met, it was a warm summer day, and we went for a walk in the local metro park. I asked to hold hands while we walked. She obliged. We talked, conversation easily flowing, and we stopped at a park bench to rest and enjoy the beautiful scenery. I was enthralled, being alone for so long, to finally be spending time with another lonely soul. We gazed into each others eyes, and she kissed me. Fireworks.

The Creature and the babysitter were not happy when we returned hours later, but that didn't matter at the time to me. I was starting a new chapter in my life. It's amazing how a simple kiss can totally skew your common sense, and if I was listening at the time to it, I would've run like mad and never looked back. They scolded her, for being gone so long with a man she didn't know from the internet that just showed up out of nowhere, thinking all sorts of evil had happened to her, and I just grinned sheepishly as I understood their perspective. Little did they know we had already logged in lots of hours of online chatting, and had a pretty good understanding of each others natures.

Needless to say, the newest pages in my life were being written, and in an evening of passion the miracle of conception occurred. We had a shotgun wedding, and set off to settle into the routine of being a husband, wife and family. My goal of four children was soon to be realized, but little did I know what the Creature had in store for my own sanity.

The Creature turned from a sweet little girl into a spoiled brat after her mom and her left the city ghetto to live with me in the country. She became a picky eater, not wanting what the rest of the family was having for dinner, because she didn't like it. She went from a spoiled brat to an absolute monster once school started, wanting only the most popular fashions, the most expensive shampoos, and new shoes once a month, because there was this competition of popularity at school that she was involved in. The monster turned into a drama queen, and from there she started inflicting the worst poison into my soul.

One time, sometime after she turned eleven, it was past midnight on a school night, and she was still lounging on the couch watching television.

I said, "Hey, isn't it about time for bed? You have school tomorrow."

She responded in the iciest tone possible, "You are NOT my father, and I DON'T have to listen to you."

"I know I'm not, but you do have school tomorrow."

"I'll go to bed when I feel like it."

I walked away, and finally saw the Creature within. I realized my dreams were once again shattered. I went to bed that night, shaken within, knowing that the Creature now had the upper hand.

Her mother and I had agreed from the onset that discipline of the children belonged to the respective parent. I told her mother of the exchange, but soon realized that her mom was under her evil spell. The Creature controlled her own mother, her friends, anyone that she could, but she would never control me. When people were around, she was sweet as pie, but as soon as we were alone in the house, she morphed back into her true nature, an evil demon spawned from the very bowels of hell. It's tough living with a demon like that. Soon after, the games began.

It was little things at first. My toothbrush would disappear, mysteriously. I'd have to buy a new one. A toothbrush doesn't just jump out of it's holder, grow legs, and walk away. My sanity tells me that. The remote for the downstairs TV would disappear, to be lost for days, only to strangely appear in the same spot from whence it was missing. The toilet paper was the next evil trick I couldn't comprehend, and it continues to this day.

Why would I bring up toilet paper? It's unnatural for a roll of toilet paper to be used in a twenty four hour period of time, especially when the parents are working and the children are at school during the day. I used to think she would purposefully throw a whole roll away, just to mess with me, as my sanity was being tinkered with in ways it wasn't adapted to. I thought she maybe ate it, some sort of treat that evil beings enjoy, but I eventually nailed it down to simply being wasteful. After careful monitoring, and a series of scientifically valid tests, a full roll of toilet paper would turn into less than half a roll after one trip to the bathroom by said Creature. It boggled my mind. Upon presenting my evidence to the brainwashed mother, I was reprimanded by the fact that a four pack of toilet paper only costs a dollar. I tried different things, like buying a thirty six jumbo pack of toilet paper, but the more the Creature had, the more it used. The huge packs of toilet paper would be gone within a week, and I could imagine the Creature chortling with glee as it wrapped up balls of unused paper and flushed them down the john. I learned to keep a single roll hidden for my own personal use, because there were several times when nature called quickly, and I found myself alone on the commode with an empty cardboard tube. I have OCD, so I always change the roll, but that was a weakness the Creature used against me. I think she'd time when I used the bathroom, and would vacate the tube prior to my call of nature, and chuckle to herself as I called for the wife to please bring me another roll.

The Creature devised many tricks over time to erode my state of mind. Leaving lights on was another often used ploy to drive me insane. There were times I'd get home from work, and literally every light in the house was on, the house lit up like a perpetual Christmas tree. Completely wasteful, I'd explain to the household, and many times I'd have to emphasize how a light switch works both ways. It took many years for the Creature to understand that simple concept.

The Creature got her first menses at age thirteen, and with it, a new found ability. Hormonal fluctuations, commonly called PMS, was a new skill in her digest of evil, and she would even include her own mother in the most vile of scathing statements. I was wise to the female affliction already, so I knew not to engage in conversation. At those times, I'd hide in my computer room, programming HTML, and listen to arguments flare between mother and daughter. I wanted none of that nonsense.

As time rolled on the Creature learned that the world evolved around her, and only her. Her attitude was matched only by her own selfishness, and at age sixteen, the Creature was allowed to start dating. The poor fools. Mind you, the Creature would spend hours in the bathroom and adorn herself with make-up, fix her hair, and change clothes at least ten times before a date, and she had mastered the art of making herself look good, and in her own terminology, "hot". I would remotely agree with her assessment, and her level of personal hygiene has only increased exponentially to this day. Now she uses the term, "smoking hot", and again, I would concur. The Creature by now had mastered the art of manipulation, and would have boys buy her whatever her heart desired. The ones that couldn't afford her, didn't. She controlled them not only by her words, but also by her appearance. Think Victoria Secret catalog, and what you wouldn't do for a female that looked like ones of those models. The boys couldn't see her true self, they were simply enamored by her beauty. I watched mostly from the sidelines, laughing to myself at the boys brave enough to enter our house, have dinner with us, and watch a movie on the couch with her. The poor fools.

The Creature would dump a boy because they didn't treat her right, and her mom would console her and feed her selfish misery. Basically, the boy would run out of money and couldn't afford her anymore. It would suck the money from them, and cast them aside when the well was dry. Rinse and repeat.

All that activity didn't stop her from practicing her ulterior goal of destroying my sanity. By eighteen, she learned to go tanning, the gym, and dress as scantily clad as she could around the house, without being completely naked. Any normal man would comment on her attire, but I have learned since my first encounter with the Creature when to open my mouth and when to shut it. With her eighteenth birthday came a new phrase, which was, "I'm eighteen and I can do what I want." Time to open my mouth, and I set down a few ground rules. One was that boys have to leave the house by midnight, and the second was no parking on the grass, the third for the life of me I can't remember. So much for that.

It devises new tricks all the time.

It started dating Afro-americans, and listening to rap music. It became accustomed to smoking Black and Milds, which produce an awful stench, and give me a headache. Oh yeah, that was the third rule I laid down, smoking BnM's can only be done in your own room. How could I forget that one?

The Creature has her network of friends, and goes on dates with whomever it wants, using whatever form of guile it can. I'm immune. I've gone thru hell and back, and now that the Creature is nineteen, we'll get into yelling matches periodically, where the argument ends with her re-stating that she hates me. Yes, I know that such a vile creature is filled with hate, and now I let her focus her hatred on me. My reply is always succinct, and to the point.

"If you don't like it here, you can always find your own place to live." I'm still waiting for that day.

Synopsis:

Oops, I guess I forgot to add (Based on a true story.) at the beginning of the story. I'll leave it the way it is, even though many aspects could be considered autobiographical. An alternate title I was thinking about was "A treatise on the horrors of adolescence from a parent's point of view", but it seemed to be too long, and a Creature story was an idea I had from a real person in the blogging community that actually calls her own daughter a Creature. It seemed to be a catchy title.

My beef with the whole scenario was that my step-daughter never had a father figure during the first 9 years of her life, and when I came into the picture, she rebelled at my authority. Her mother and her were living in the ghettos of Cleveland at the time, and her mother had hardened her to the basics of reality. Her mother ingrained survival skills, the harshness of reality, and not to trust anyone, which in a way is sad, but necessary in this day and age. I extended my hand, but it was slapped away, because trust is something you can't afford when you live in poverty, day to day. After we married, and they moved to the country, a different lifestyle was before them, and it took years to realize that it wasn't about survival anymore, but learning to love life. I had canned 32 quarts of pickles the previous summer, had them in the basement, and when Creature found them, they were gone in a month. Creature loved my dill pickles. She still does.

I left out a few parts. Like how I helped her with her algebra homework, and when she missed the bus I'd give her a ride to school, and she'd say thank you. When it was time for her to get her driving permit, I was the one that took her on driving lessons. I have to chuckle at that one, because in one lesson I tricked her, and after a bunch of back roads, I led her to the ramp to the interstate, and made her drive 65 in heavy traffic. Scared the crap out of her. I got a few respect points that day.

She's not really the horrible Creature I painted her out to be, (writer's freedom) and she has a job now, being a NA, (nursing assistant) and she goes to work faithfully.

I may not have been her father, but over the years, with patience and guidance, I think she knows what a father should be. I stood my ground, we clashed, and I accepted the repercussions of my beliefs. I don't need for her to call me dad, because I know when her car breaks down, or her computer messes up, or whatever, I am the first person she comes to for advice.

I was thinking of my step-father while reading this story. I put this man through hell and back. I too was a very angry child, never met my father and I had to grow up fast as a child. This man took the abuse I spewed at him, but when I started this same crap on my mother, this is where he drew the line. He casually told me what he would do to me if I ever raised a hand to my mother,and I understood.

This is when I secretly gained respect for him, but I never would show it to him. The moment I left home, I knew to the core of my being what this man meant to me. I fell in love with this man as my true father. I realized he loved me as his own child, and I gave this man every reason not to. He married my mother knowing she had 3 angry and hurt children, but this beautiful soul, my step-father, was the only man for the job.

I lost him in 1998, and my spirit still cries for him. I was fortunate to be able to tell him I truly loved him as my father a few years before he died, and thanked him for being my teacher in this life

Druid, your creature probably feels the same toward you as I do for my step-father.