Something Different… Q & A… We Dance Once More…

So if you don’t remember I used to do this for a second… it has been a long ass time since the last one so I’m not going to link it to this one… sorry… not really… haha… the point of these type of posts is to have fun… learn a little bit about me… and you… feel free to answer the questions in the comments if you want… or make fun of mine…

The basic idea is that I answer questions from an old ass game… The Ungame… I found at a Goodwill… well that is it really… so it is clear… I am drawing these cards at random… let’s get going…

like I said… old ass game… good luck finding a copy…

Turn 1… What Would You Do If You Had A “Magic Wand”?

Created a magic lamp… rub it… get three wishes… Make Hogwarts a real thing… go back to school with my “Magic Wand”… major in Defense Against the Dark Arts… too easy… Also I love how magic wand is in quotes… as if it was someone else’s idea… “Fine Carol we will add Magic Wand, but I just want to make it clear that this game has nothing to do with Satan. We simply heard of this so called magic wand.”

Turn 2… If You Were Lost In The Woods And It Got Dark, What Would You Do?

Who said I was lost?… The first thing you should ask yourself is how did you end up in these woods to begin with?… Did I drag you here?… Was it through a portal in the game?… Why am I holding this knife?… Have you always look as though you were carved to pieces?… probably best to not go into the woods with me… : )

Turn 3… If You Were A Doctor, What Ailment Would You Like To Cure?

This is a tough one for me… without hesitation I would say depression… that is what I would cure if I could… but… there is always a but… I don’t know if I would… I am torn… full of hesitation… I can think of so many people in my day to day life that I could help… and countless others around the world that could be helped from my answer… but in the same breath… I know of so many things in my life that I love and that I live for that wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for depression… My favorite books… my favorite music… my favorite films… the idea that we could lose so much art… is depressing in itself… then again I have seen depression destroy so many things that I love and live for as well… which is also depressing in itself… sometimes simply wishing something away isn’t so simple…

So if I could cure anything with a worry free answer… I guess I would cure addiction… getting rid of depression would help a lot of people… if we could cure addiction safely and make it stop forever… I think we could save and help everyone… I think it would even help other ailments like depression to a certain extent… it wouldn’t cure it… but even just a little bit of help goes a long way… I know it could help me a lot… though I wonder if more people would try certain things because they know that they could get “clean” at any point?…

This question is an education on how my brain works… I do this with everything in my life… Should I do the laundry? yes I should… but if I don’t I could do this… I can see how doing the laundry and not doing the laundry could help a lot of people…

Turn 4… Are You Remembering To Keep Your Answers Brief? Take another card !

Yes?…

Turn 5… What Bit Of Advice Would You Give A Young Man About To Get Married?

Young man?… I may be too hypersensitive… because of where I live and the period of time we are living… but does this question feel a little sexist?… I guess I will answer this question… though it goes against my moral code…

If I was going to give anyone advice on marriage… I would say to never lose communication… never forget that it is you and this other person against the world… not the world against each other… and the world is always coming… will you always agree?… haha… that would be something wouldn’t it?… doesn’t matter… if you agree on every little thing… what matters is that the other person knows you have their back no matter what… good or bad… that is the hard part… because it is so easy to say anything with nothing going on… but when the shit hits the fan… when one of you or both of you fucks up… because you will… we are all human… are you, can you stand up with them no matter what?…

I think marriage is an institution… it means something different to the people involved… as it should… because it is about the two of you not everyone else… to me marriage isn’t important… and it is… I didn’t need to marry my wife… if we weren’t married… I’d feel the same way about her… which is why I got married?… or married to her… I don’t know… what I do know is I found the person I wanted to take the world on with… the person I love no matter what… nothing is perfect or easy… life happens… shit happens… but through it all… that feeling… that idea… has never changed… so my advice is that if you aren’t willing to stand next to this person as they burn at the stake… shielding them from the flames… then you aren’t willing to stand next to them ever… (yes… advice to means a long rant… best not to ask advice from me unless you got time…)

Turn 6… Give One Word To Describe Each Person In The Group.

asshole… haha…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents… Education In Absolution…

“Between one doctor to another I don’t really see how what I’m convicted for was really wrong,” the old man shifts in his chair. “That is why you have been placed under my care here rather than facing the death penalty someplace else,” the middle aged man says from across the table. “Do you think what happened was wrong?” The older man asks. “Are you asking if your actions are wrong or the act of what happened was wrong? Because what transpired on December eighth of last year is nothing short of fascinating,” the doctor closes the file in front of him. “I was only trying to train them in the procedures of the class,” the old man smiles from ear to ear. “They were basically children Dr. Kreleason,” the doctor stands up. “It is such a beautiful day outside. We should take a walk around the grounds no use wasting it sitting in here,” the doctor suggests. The old man stands up and takes a small bow, “After you.” The doctor smiles, “No, I insist. Age before beauty of course.” The old man walks out the door, “Of course but with age comes intelligence.”

The sun beats down on the two men as they walk on the edge of the court yard. “Modern medicine is so barbaric,” the old man says with no prompt. “Is that why you did what you did?” The doctor asks. “No, medicine has always been barbaric. I was simply trying to teach them what they should have already have known. I was trying to teach them a lesson,” the old man looks up to the sky. “I’d hardly believe allowing your students to perform open heart surgery on one another while under the influence of hallucinations a lesson. Let alone entertaining. So, your smile seems vastly inappropriate,” the doctor says. “I was smiling at the sky. You don’t remember or know how beautiful it is until you can’t see it anymore. Until it is hidden away from you like a lost treasure. I was smiling at the simplicity’s of life. But obviously you weren’t there doctor because had you have been there you would have found it most entertaining. I know for a fact that the ones the survived found it very entertaining,” the old man turns his attention back to the doctor. “I find that very hard to believe,” the doctor quips.  The two men stop at one end of the court yard standing face to face. “Believe it or not doesn’t change the facts of what I witnessed that day. Besides how could you or anyone else for that matter not find the situation the least bit hysterical? I warned those students well ahead of time that failing my class would have grave circumstances,” Kreleason laughs deeply with an almost howling effect. The sounds of birds flapping their wings surrounds them.

“What I don’t understand is how you got those students to perform the procedures voluntarily. I understand why you are laughing at the sick thoughts of what you did. I’ve interviewed enough of you monsters to know why. But those students were the head of their class. Straight A students and you got them to hack each other up like it was an everyday thing,” the doctor stands there confused. “The hallucinations help Doctor, but the rest? You really think that was that hard to accomplish? They were fucking sheep. I could have told them in order to pass my class you’d have to rape the person next to you and once one did it they would all follow suit. Could have turned that classroom into a full on orgy of deceit, but that is simple minded. Where is the fun in that? The hallucinations were nothing but a fun game. The real lesson in all of this. I knew what the outcome of their behavior was before it even began, but to prove it? That was satisfaction,” the old man states before starting to walk again. “Sheep? That’s the best way to describe your students? Those students?” The doctor asks. “That is the best way to describe this whole generation of students. They do as they are told and the ones that don’t are so deep in the gutter that they don’t even matter,” the old man boasts. “Are you referring to your cadaver victims from early lessons? I hesitate to call them lessons but a lack of a better word leads me to call them that,” the doctor muses out loud. 

“Victims? You really see them as victims to my lessons? They were victims of a broken society before I found them. They were helpless before I gave them a purpose. They served a better purpose helping science then they would have otherwise. Tell me doctor do you have a problem with my methods of thinning the herd or do you have a problem with me? I haven’t been able to figure that out yet,” the old man challenges the doctor. The doctor ignores the question. “Those helpless people had families. They had lives before you ripped them apart. What about them?” The doctor asks him. “It really is a pity we couldn’t have dissected them as well, but we wouldn’t want people to think I was disturb in anyway,” the old man smiles. “Because murdering people undeserved of punishment is a normal every day occurrence?” The doctor fires back. “You act as though they didn’t volunteer. You act as if I went out into the night hunting victims for my own personal gain. They came to me. They wanted something from me and I from them. They were little more than transaction, interactions between two willing parties,” Kreleason explains. “You are sick. Truly disturbed in your thoughts and actions. It is truly fascinating the way you think,” the doctor says.

“Now you are getting it. I like to think that my goal here on Earth is to enlighten those around me. We all must have a goal. A purpose. For so long I didn’t know my own purpose and then I found it. Tell me doctor have you found yours?” The old man asks. “I thought I had, but now I know for sure. Maybe I knew all along or maybe you convinced me. I’m unsure of that. But what I do know is that there is no justice for monsters like you. There is no lesson in absolution. There is so little to learn from the nature of evil. Broken is the best and only way to describe people like you,” the doctor says into the air. “Unhinged, we are unhinged doctor. From reality and responsibility. The clock ticks and it tocs, but it never stops. Tell me doctor do you know who you are? Do you know where you are? Do you know what you have become? How is it that we even got here?” They look up to the sky once more. A voice in the distance cuts through the silence, “This is Thompson I found him in the court yard, over.” The security guard walks up slowly and speaks in a soft voice, “Dr. Kreleason if you could please come with me. Nice and easy. No one else needs to get hurt.”

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

So Some of You May Have Noticed…

That there hasn’t been any new post for When There Is No More Room…. and basically after this one there won’t be… Some shit came up… but unlike the last year or so… this shit was all positive… It also has kind of hindered a lot of my plans for the rest of the year… but I’m excited about it so that is something… I started working on my next novel… because I have started writing my next novel… I lost interest in finishing a failed one…

For those of you who really enjoyed When There Is No More Room... I am sorry… I wanted to finish it… I fought the last couple of weeks to get it done… but honestly my heart isn’t there… I’m sure many of you could feel it on the last couple of post I did for it… if you didn’t I am glad… I wasn’t trying to phone anything I wrote in… in my head though it felt like I was… the plan was to just push through it… get it done… and on the next project… have it all fully written and fleshed out… something I didn’t do for When There Is No More Room

Well kind of… I had doctor parts from a failed third book from years ago… but that was it… even they had to be rewritten and worked… the rest was just me sitting down at the computer… thinking how do I kill people?… pulling stories from my ass… and I thought that would last until the end… turns out I didn’t have anything more to pull out of my ass… by about mid way… I didn’t hate No More Room… I felt like I came up with some pretty great stuff in the beginning… maybe some stuff I’d like to go back to at a later date… but for the most part it did what it needed to do for me… and that was get me writing again… get me interested in writing stories again… which it has…

Many… if not all… of you are writers… not all are novelist or have any interest in writing a novel… there are a lot of ups and downs… a fuck ton of false starts… and a million ideas that don’t lead to no where… then you have to write the fucking thing… don’t even get me started on editing… I hate editing… takes too god damn long… and if you do it right… by the time you are done editing… you are pretty much at the point of fuck this piece of shit… why did I ever think that I could write in the first place??… maybe that last part is me… : )

So I am excited to get that going… but I am also bummed that I didn’t finish No More Room… I will however post the original ending… how it was meant to end… I did have that written from before… I will drop that below this excuse… I also have some fun facts to share about the project… I will post that at the end as well… again I apologies that I didn’t finish the story properly… and I thank those of you who stuck with it…

Layne Ambrose


I Think We Are Alone Now

“I’m scared Chris do we really have to be here so late? Couldn’t we have come earlier in the day?” She asks pressing against me. I’m scared too, but I don’t let her know that. “Don’t be scared baby. I just wanted to show you around that’s all,” I tell her. “You’ve been here before this late?” She asks. “Of course I have,” I tell her as we sneak up the dilapidated stairs. “Don’t give me that look,” I don’t even look at her, but even in the dark I can tell she has one on her face. “Well who were you here with last?” She asks rather loud. She stops in her tracks. “Are you serious right now?” I whisper. “I just want to know who you were here with last? What’s her name?” She asks even louder. “Baby, I wasn’t here with only one person. My friends and I used to come here all the time. I told you that before,” I whisper. The sound of shuffling feet comes from nowhere. We grab each other tight. “What was that? Is this place really haunted? Didn’t something happen in the 50’s?” she whispers in fear.

I listen for any more sounds and I don’t hear anything. I pull on her gently to continue going up the stairs, “Some people say they hear voices of past patients, but I’ve never heard anything like voices here.” We climb one more flight of stairs and I slowly open the door at the top. We sneak our way into the hallway. “Can we just go already? I don’t like it here at all. It feels really cold for some reason,” she whines. “We already climbed the stairs and the really cool stuff is up here. Stand closer to me and you will warm up. This building is super old and it is a cold night. Imagine being one of the patients?” I ask her. She doesn’t say anything. “There is only a few things I want you to see and then we can go?” I kiss her on the cheek. “There wasn’t anything cool you could have shown me on the first floor?” She asks in a worried voice. “No, the really good stuff is on this floor. This is where they had some of the patients and the shock treatment equipment,” I can’t hide my excitement.

“I don’t think we should be messing with that stuff,” she pleads. “Oh, don’t worry no one’s around so, no one is going to care. It will be fun I promise. Plus you said you wanted to see it,” I remind her. “Really starting to regret agreeing to any of this. I hope we don’t hear anything scary up here,” she says. “Why afraid you’ll scream and wake everyone up?” I ask jokingly. “Haha, like I care about that,” she says mockingly. “Well you should,” I say in a creepy voice. “They kept some serious freaks here. Nearly anyone in this region the state thought were to broken to put in jail,” I tell her. “Why didn’t they just kill them then?” She asks. “You shouldn’t talk like that. What if you piss one of them off?” I ask. “What if I do? It’s not like they can do anything about it?” She states. “Can we just go a little bit faster? I’m only being cautious because this building is pretty old,” I tell her. “So this place isn’t safe?” She asks surprised.

“Great so you’re putting my life at risk? This is one hell of a date,” she whines. “This is a date?” I ask confused. “Seriously?” she shakes her head. “At this rate you’d be lucky if I even admit to knowing who you are after this,” she warns. “Sorry, I thought we were only hanging out. I didn’t realize it was a date. I didn’t even think you were really that in to me,” I stop to tell her. “And if you had known?” She asks. “Well I wouldn’t be trying to impress you right now with how brave I am. I would have taken you to a much more romantic place then this shit hole,” I tell her. “Well how about we get out of here and do just that?” She asks staring into my eyes. I lean in to kiss her on the lips. With my eyes close I hear her words. “Do you smell that?”

I stop leaning and smell around us, “All I smell is you.” A look of horror comes across her face, “It smells like fresh cigarettes. I think someone is up here.” I put my hands on her shoulders, “Didn’t you see all that dust and ash coming up here? It has been sometime since anyone has been up here.” She starts shaking. “You shouldn’t be here,” a voice says from behind us. “What the fuck,” she screams as she runs back down the hall way. I turned to see where the voice is coming from. “There’s no one there,” I say out loud. “I know,” she screams behind me. “But there is no one there,” I say to myself to paralyzed to move. The smell of cigarette smoke washes over me, “I said you shouldn’t be here.” The sound of shuffling feet fills the hall way, but no one is there. “Do you have an appointment?” the voice asks as I black out.

This was a long ass post… probably should have made an appointment for your time… yeah that was bad… so as promised fun facts about this story… some lose ends tied up as well…

Fun Fact... The title of this story comes from the tagline of my favorite movie of all time… “When there is no more room in hell the dead shall walk the earth”... Any guesses?… hopefully none… but it is from Dawn of the Dead (1978)… If you caught that early one… you might have guessed the ending… if not then it was just something fun for me…

Lose end… So originally this whole thing was going to be my third book… doctor… patient… back and forth… I tried to do a smaller version here on the website… basically everything that the doctor was saying was after they all died because he was trapped in “hell”… reliving every day he had to work at the shit box asylum… the patient stories all took place before the fire… or before they all died…

Fun Fact… the doctor bitching about the facility was the real killer… not him… he honestly wanted to help them… fought to keep the place up and running… tried to get them the help he believed he could provided… but the state was like fuck’em… so we was waging a war on all fronts… which broke his mind… then he died… because the shit building fell apart somehow… I didn’t have that part worked out yet… that’s a twofer…

Lose end… the doctor and his brother… that plot thread was an add on from the beginning… so years ago… I believe I hinted at it here in the smaller story… I was going to take it out… but just as I did then… I liked the idea that the doctor had a reason for being a doctor… also the back and forth between him and his brother was interesting to me… something I needed to work out… didn’t… and now it is like what the fuck?… it had a bigger overall theme in the original…

I think that was it… Did you catch all the weird 50’s or earlier references in the patient’s stories?… if you have any questions?… are pissed that I didn’t finish it?… don’t give a shit?… or just want to say hi?… leave a comment at the bottom… for those of you who cared… I hope this was at least something to put an end to the story for you…

Fixing What Isn’t Broken…

And You Will All Know Me By My Name

Singularity symptom of a crime
Punishment for a sin I’ve yet to commit
Self-sacrifice is a selfish mind set
Always been about the team
Smile and take it deeper
The pain is only for a moment
Spread over a life time
It goes away
The pretense of the present
Set in stone, etched through the blood
Of the words laid out in front of me
Living an excuse of an existence
Watching everything from my digital screen
I’m starting to see what you mean
By myself in my selfishness
Always been true I just wasn’t listening
The sad song you’ve been playing all along
A demon chant with too many thoughts
Present my case to a jury made of my peers
Worthless thought stolen from a god
Jesus had a point when he said
I’ve died for your sins
Words shoved down my throat
A long shaft, do not complain
Be more like me
Be more whole
Be everything you were meant to be
Be all that was ever said
Just fucking be
So easy as you take the steps
Heavy footed fucking foot print
Left in the sand
Lay more down on me
I can take more as long as
I’m still breathing

All Mixed Up

Obsessed with the obsession of death
Constant reminder that I’m still alive
The synapses of your encephalon is more
Than I could handle
Smoke so thick they call it a fog
But we know what it really is
The fumes of your shit consume me
Body and soul
Choking down all your words has left me
Broken and whole
An odd arrangement of what it means to be human
Spit in my mouth and tell me it is love
Dance on my grave
A place chosen for me without my consent
To say I miss you would be more than the truth
Too much for me to handle
An excuses I carry all the way home
You’ve got me, hooked to the back bumper
Dragging the lifeless corpse the rest of the way
All mixed up is one way to say
How you make me feel when I’m fucking you
Payback is a bitch or so they say
The voices never take the time
To shut the fuck up

These are two poems… I wrote a few months ago… and I may have been a little gone when I wrote them… some times I remember why I write things and other time shit just comes out… if you haven’t figured out by now… some of my writing is on auto pilot… not that it doesn’t have any feeling… but some times I just start with two lines or a line… and I just go until I can’t think of anything else… more so when I have been drinking…

I’m sure we all have our way of clearing our minds… I enjoy these kind of poems from time to time… I prefer to write things with a purpose… but sometimes it is nice to just let whatever comes out… to just come out… The hard part about that is that sometimes they don’t fit any where… don’t fit into the “plan”… which is why I have been sitting on them for a while…

My favorite line from either of the two is… “Spit in my mouth and tell me it is love”… so beautiful and disgusting at the same time…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon... Broken Thoughts… Twitter

When There Is No More Room… Part 10…

Don’t Stand So Close To Me

I like to keep my things in jars. I have many jars all around my room. I used to as a child go out in the woods behind my house and collected bugs. I had so many in my collection. Water bugs, butterflies, lightning bugs, and all sorts of beetles. I used to watch them crawl or fly around their jars. Each one or type I guess had their own jar to call their own. Little worlds that they could live in. Live in until they died. They always died. Why did they always die on me? Everything always dies on me. Mother, sister, and the bugs. I used to label them and everything.  It would drive my mother crazy. All the jars filled with dead bugs under my bed. I couldn’t stop collecting them though. No matter how many died or how upset my mother got.

Growing older I became more and more fascinated with the bugs I kept in my jars. Though I never had the passion to really understand what it was that I was collecting. I wasn’t book smart my mother used to say. I just liked the way they looked in their jars. One day while exploring in the woods I heard this odd noise cut through the singing birds. It sounded like nothing I had ever heard in the woods before. It sounded as though a small child was crying. Was my sister lost in the woods? Over and over I heard the noise. The closer I got the louder the noise became. I knew I was on the right path. Frantically I searched for the noise until I came across a small deer. Not quite a baby but not yet an adult. It was just there lying in the open grass between some trees. It saw me before I saw it, but it kept crying. Figured it would run away when I got close enough and between me and you it tried, but the little deer had broken its leg. As I got closer it struggled to get away. Dragging the broken leg behind it. Leaving a trail of blood. I had never seen so much blood before. It looked so odd, so out of place amongst the green of the grass. I got so close to the deer that I could reach out and touch it. The cry it was making was so loud by then. The sound was almost unbearable. I studied the hurt animal as it tried to get away. I watched it for so long that after a while I couldn’t even hear the sound it was making. I couldn’t hear anything.  

It must have grown tired because after some time the deer stopped trying to get away. It laid its head down in the grass, its mouth moving, and its chest moving up and down rapidly. Cried and cried as I watched. In that moment in time it was only me and it in the whole world. The deer’s rapid breathes become slow and shallow breathes. We locked eyes for what felt like a life time. I placed my right hand on the back of its head and it went silent. Silent like it knew what was going to happen next. I tried to make it quick. Grabbing the top of its muzzle with my left hand I gave it everything my little body had a twist. Its neck snapped. I know I heard it or maybe I only felt it, but it wasn’t enough. Its body flopped around in the grass as I tried to hang onto its head. I tried twisting its head again, but it just kept shaking my hand lose. I could barely keep a hold of the deer. So I jumped onto its back like anyone would I suppose and tried to wrestle it still. It was all happening so fast until everything seemed to stop around me. I was so frustrated, so angry that I lost control of everything. I seemed to have gone to another place within myself. By the time I came back to reality there I was holding this deer’s head in my hands. I no longer cared about bugs. Not when there was so many things out in the woods that needed my help and attention. I find that people are much the same as that deer or the birds or the rabbits of the world. They all need my help and attention.

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

When There Is No More Room… Part 9…

Only a Matter of Time

“Hello Liam,” I say as I enter the room. “Doctor,” he smiles in his own sinister way. “How’s everything today?” I ask him. “Oh you know can’t really complain. Got to sleep in late, watched as the birds played in the trees while I enjoyed my very nutritious breakfast, and afterword I went for a nice walk around town,” he deadpans. “Cute, I’m sure it is easy to get around town in that straight jacket,” I say to him. “It is a tad bit constraining, but you know the ladies love a man who knows how to dress for the occasion,” he laughs. “And I’m sure the ladies love you. It is only too bad that you are a danger to yourself and everyone else,” I say as I open the file in front of me. “A danger to myself?” he gasps. “Tell me is that your medical opinion or your personal opinion? Because I will have you know that there isn’t one person out there who would back up your claim,” he shifts in his chair. “That’s because beside me there is no one left who really knows you Liam. You made sure of that didn’t you?” I ask. He tries to lean his chair back but it is bolted to the floor. “There’s no use scratching at the scars of the past now is there Doctor?”

“Unfortunately that’s all you have any more. Tell me do you ever stop to think that may be the reason you are in here instead of out there?” I ask him. “Are you really asking me if I have time to think right now? Or are you simply trying to get through your checklist of nonsensical questions? Because I’m having a hard time telling the difference,” he fires back. I’m losing him. The nice guy, everything is a joke personality is starting to fade. I can see it in his eyes. The dark hollow orbs staring back at me. I write down my observation on the paper in front of me. “See something you like? Find something new? Care to discuss what new profound idea popped into your head?” I ignore his questions. Bait to fall into a trap. Liam likes words. Uses them to distract you, confuse you into doing exactly what he wants. A trait he must have possessed his whole life. “Stop looking at me like some sort of side show freak,” he growls. “Are you angry Liam?” I finally ask him. He tries to fake a smile but the real Liam has taken over, “No of course not.” His eyes never blink. Only if you are looking for it do you even notice that the skin around his eyes begin to tighten with every passing moment. No one the wiser would think he looks calm, cool, and collected, but I can see through his mask. He has the look of a mostly forgotten memory. “God, there is just so much of him left inside of you,” I say. The lines of his face form a most sinister smirk, “Do you mean our father?”

“Are you sure that I didn’t burn most of him out? Medically speaking.” Liam turns his head to show off his scars and what’s left of his left ear. “I’m very certain that no matter how much you hurt yourself you will always be like him,” I tell him. “Why don’t you take this straight jacket off and we can test that theory Doctor,” he says. His voice calm and his eyes like fire. “I’d prefer we didn’t. Medically speaking of course,” I smile. “I’m sure you do. Remember how you used to hide behind the living room curtains whenever he would come home? You were weak then and you are just as weak now. I never feared our father. Even as a child I could see what he was. Maybe I didn’t understand it completely but I knew what I wanted to be,” he muses. “Are you admitting that you were fully aware of your crimes?” I ask with my pen in my hand. He ignores my question. “You probably get off on the idea that your little brother is some kind of monster? But here is the thing brother. You can hide behind your little curtain. You can roam these halls pretending you are some educated healer, but we both know. I know that you aren’t. No, hidden away somewhere in that thick skull of yours he hides. It hides. You think you are better than me, but you are nothing more than the same,” he rants.

“I think that is enough for today,” I say uncomfortably. “Of course you do. You have no back bone. Never have. You can’t accept who you really are. What we are,” he taunts. Do not give in I think to myself. Don’t listen to his false words. “I can stand up for myself just fine. I know who I am and what I am,” I tell him. “Yeah and what is that Brother?” he asks me. “Sane, normal, a free man in this world. A man not strapped down by chains for sins committed.” I enlighten. He looks almost bored from my words. “I pity you brother I really do. You can hide behind your curtain, your title. The idea that you are sane. Free from the evils of this family, but in reality it is you that is in chains not me,” he taunts. “You can taunt me all you want Liam, but I am the one in control,” I say firmly. His eyes look as though they might jump from his skull, “You will never know the true meaning of control. You will never feel its true power for as long as you hide behind the curtain. Those victims as you call them were nothing more than stepping stones, martyrs to show me a better life. They showed me the truth of this world. Beyond our father. Beyond reason. So you can judge me all you want from behind your curtain or you can join me on the other side of it.” I signal for the orderlies to come in and take him away, “This meeting has been insightful as always. Can’t wait to see you in a few weeks to do it all over again Liam.” The orderlies place his muzzle around his face and left him up from the chair. “It is only a matter of time Brother. I can see it in your eyes,” he shouts as he exits the room. “Only a matter of time.”

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When There’s No More Room… Part 8…

A Pattern of Abuse

“Try again. Sound out the words,” his mother says holding back her frustration. “I know it can be difficult to read, but you have to learn.” She rubs the top of his head. The little boy looks over the page studying the images first and then the words. “The boy ex, escaped through the fa, fa,” he stops as a hand smacks him hard against his head. “Fire you dumb shit. It says fire,” his father barks. “Damn it James he was only trying to sound out the word,” his mother pleads. “Stupid doesn’t know how to read fire?” His father asks before taking another drink. “I ain’t raising no dumb illiterate asshole in this house. He ain’t going to add up to shit any way, but if he can’t read? Be even more worthless than he already is. Can’t be slow, fat, and stupid,” his father argues. “You are one to speak. You can barely,” his mother doesn’t finish the sentence as his father raises his hand. Tears begin to form in the boy’s eyes. “That’s right woman. Know your place,” his father says before finishing off his drink. The boy fights the urge to cry. He knows better than to show weakness. Fights even harder to not let his father see. “Are you crying?” His father asks. The boy tries even harder to make the emotions stop by looking down away from his father. His father grabs him by the back of the neck, “Those look like tears to me. I asked you a question. Are you crying?” Tears fall from the boy’s eyes. “No,” the boy yells. His father’s eyes light up. The spark that he needed. “James don’t. He didn’t mean it,” his mother pleads. “Bitch unless you want to be taught a lesson yourself I suggest you shut the fuck up and get me another drink.” His mother walks out of the room as the hand around his neck squeezes to the point he can barely breathe. “You don’t talk to me like that you little shit. Even got your mother acting stupid. Must be some kind of sickness going around here. Best to stomp this sickness right out before it spreads any further.”

James drags his son by the neck out of the room and down the basement stairs, “First you can’t even read. Now all of a sudden you the big man with the balls to talk to your father like that. You want to cry like a baby? We don’t cry in this family. You want to be a man? Act like one.” James throws his son against the cage across from the basement stairs. The boy’s body lands against the cage with a loud crash. Grabbing his side the boy cries harder as he lay against the dirt floor. “Get in the cage,” his father orders. Kicking the child in the back, “I said get in the cage. What are you deaf and dumb now? Don’t act like you don’t know what is happening.” The boy shakes in fear as he enters the cage. The cage door slams hard behind him as he falls to the dirty floor of the cage. Torn up bits of clothing and old rotten food surround him as he fights the pain in his side. Fights to breathe. Fight the urge to scream. He can no longer take it as he hears the familiar sound of his father picking up the old iron rod. He wails in pain and frustration as he knows what comes next.

“Strip,” his father orders. “I don’t want to,” the boy expels in broken words and snot. “Sorry what was that?” His father mocks. Striking the side of the cage with the iron rod, “Don’t you make me ask twice? No use in fucking up your clothes over your stupidity, but don’t think I won’t.” His father walks over to the furnace and opens the door. The boy does as he was told. The fire burning inside lights up the room. His father places the end of the rod in the fire before asking, “Are you sorry?” Too afraid to move, too afraid to see the boy lays there. “Are you or are you not sorry?” His father asks. “Yes,” the boy shouts. “I want to hear you say it,” his father demands. The iron rod heats up. The boy sits up and grabbing the side of the cage, “I’m sorry father.” His father stands there with his back facing him. Doesn’t even bother to look him. Only stares at the end of the iron bar in the fire,” I don’t believe you.”

“So this pattern of abuse went on for years?” The doctor asks. The young man nods to the question. “Why not report it to anyone?” The doctor asks. “To who?” He asks right back. Writing some notes down the doctor studies the young man’s body language. “Tell me Steven did it feel good doing what you did? Getting your revenge? Was it worth it?” The Doctor asks. “No, not really. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t enjoy it the way that he did,” Steven says. “Odd because I don’t believe you,” the doctor smiles. Steven smiles back. “It did feel good shoving that hot iron rod right up his ass. Should have heard the way he screamed. The way he cried like a little baby until his last breathe. I didn’t enjoy the beginning but the end? It was too bad that it couldn’t have happened sooner. But we all learn a lesson in the end I suppose,” Steven rubs the scars on his side over his hospital gown.

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