We were at the dinner table, eating corn, steak and other foods. It was a great meal. My mom got up to start washing dishes, or get dessert. I don't remember. But either way, my mom and dad started fighting... about the vacuum cleaner.
We recently got a new upright vacuum cleaner. My mom hated it, and my dad suggested we get one, because his friend had one, and he liked it. Well, my parents started fighting over it.
I dont' remember when I left the room, and I don't remember what I did. But the fight did cool down... briefly.
I think I attempted to go to sleep, but I honestly do not remember.
I don't remember how fast the fight escalated.
But the pace throughout the whole evening was fast.
I came out of wherever I was (likely my room) and was standing near the rocking chair/CD player. I don't remember what my parents looked like, but my mom yelled at me to pack my stuff. I think my dad may have yelled something like "Don't" but was to preoccupied with fighting with my mom.
I went to my room. I didn't understand. I was used to the fighting. I probably thought it was normal.
In my room, I began packing. I wasn't sure what to pack/how to pack. What I would need, for how long. If it was permanent, or not. I don't remember how I packed or what I packed. But I do remember thinking a great deal about whether or not to bring my CD player and speakers.
I was just sort of confused. I didn't want to leave my room... I was scared. My mom told me not to come out of my room. I was just waiting for some confirmation that everything was okay. I didn't even try to listen in on the fight that was happening outside of my bedroom.
Eventually my mom barged into my room. She came into my room, she looked at what I had packed. She seemed unsettled with my choices. I think I asked her what I needed, but she just encouraged me to just grab what I absolutely needed, right away. My mom was debating whether or not to call the cops on her (new) cell phone. I think I convinced her to do so. So she dialed 911. Once she began talking, my dad heard some commotion in my room, and tried to break into my room. I remember my mom was leaning against the door yelling at him to not come in and to stop. I helped my mom hold up the door so he couldn't come in. He was pushing and yelling so goddam hard and loud. I pushed with all of my might to not let him in.
Eventually he gave up. My mom got off of the phone with the police. We just waited for them to show up, in my room. I remember wanting out of my room, to either go to the bathroom or to get something to pack, from another room.
When the police finally showed up, my dad yelled "Here they are!" in a somewhat sarcastic way. Anyways. I am not 100% on what happened next, but I think my dad tried to tell them nothing was going on, but obviously they could tell something was going on. I think one of the cops took my dad to talk to him, and my mom came out and talked to the other cop. The cops took my dad's initial statement, he admitted EVERYTHING he did.
Including threatening my mom to death, and putting his hands around her throat.
They arrested him, and took him away. The cop ensured my mom, she would be back to talk to her and get a more detailed form of her statement, very soon. Sure enough, once my dad was gone, I was just really concerned to my mom and double checked like a million times asking "Are you sure he's gone?".
Anyways. I think I likely just continued packing things. I don't know if my mom would've actually left, unless I actually started packing. I wasn't even sure at first if I was going to pack, or if we were really finally leaving.
Anyways. After a little bit of time went by, the situation became more interesting and (I don't want to say it... but fun). The cop showed back up, and I kept walking back and forth between the dining room and living room, just so I could pass the kitchen to see the cop sitting at my kitchen table, with my mom. I thought it was so cool a cop was in my house. They were trying to get me to leave and go somewhere else, but didn't really force me to stop.
At this point, I was exhausted. Somewhere along the line, my uncles came down from Belleville, to help us move our stuff (keep in mind this is probably around 11pm-1am right now). All I remember is when I finally got to Belleville, we moved in with my Uncle Stan, aunt, and my cousin Marija, who then was 3 years old. I remember seeing something about 3am, somewhere. But I don't remember the car ride or anything.
I was officially living in Belleville. We got the dog and everything.
On another side note, we ended up moving out of my Uncle's house a month afterwards, and moved into my Grandma's house (which is also in Belleville). I remained in that house from grade 5-early grade 8. About 3 years. 3 years of sharing a bed with my mom. 3 years. 3. Whole. Fucking. Years.
Those three years of my life, I don't remember well. I was scared. Confused. I just wanted to move out.
Anyways, that is the tale of September 29th, 2005. And today (well I guess its now yesterday) marked the 7 year mark of that happening.
Oh, P.S. my dad was an alcoholic, and was likely drunk during this whole thing.
I forgive him.
We recently got a new upright vacuum cleaner. My mom hated it, and my dad suggested we get one, because his friend had one, and he liked it. Well, my parents started fighting over it.
I dont' remember when I left the room, and I don't remember what I did. But the fight did cool down... briefly.
I think I attempted to go to sleep, but I honestly do not remember.
I don't remember how fast the fight escalated.
But the pace throughout the whole evening was fast.
I came out of wherever I was (likely my room) and was standing near the rocking chair/CD player. I don't remember what my parents looked like, but my mom yelled at me to pack my stuff. I think my dad may have yelled something like "Don't" but was to preoccupied with fighting with my mom.
I went to my room. I didn't understand. I was used to the fighting. I probably thought it was normal.
In my room, I began packing. I wasn't sure what to pack/how to pack. What I would need, for how long. If it was permanent, or not. I don't remember how I packed or what I packed. But I do remember thinking a great deal about whether or not to bring my CD player and speakers.
I was just sort of confused. I didn't want to leave my room... I was scared. My mom told me not to come out of my room. I was just waiting for some confirmation that everything was okay. I didn't even try to listen in on the fight that was happening outside of my bedroom.
Eventually my mom barged into my room. She came into my room, she looked at what I had packed. She seemed unsettled with my choices. I think I asked her what I needed, but she just encouraged me to just grab what I absolutely needed, right away. My mom was debating whether or not to call the cops on her (new) cell phone. I think I convinced her to do so. So she dialed 911. Once she began talking, my dad heard some commotion in my room, and tried to break into my room. I remember my mom was leaning against the door yelling at him to not come in and to stop. I helped my mom hold up the door so he couldn't come in. He was pushing and yelling so goddam hard and loud. I pushed with all of my might to not let him in.
Eventually he gave up. My mom got off of the phone with the police. We just waited for them to show up, in my room. I remember wanting out of my room, to either go to the bathroom or to get something to pack, from another room.
When the police finally showed up, my dad yelled "Here they are!" in a somewhat sarcastic way. Anyways. I am not 100% on what happened next, but I think my dad tried to tell them nothing was going on, but obviously they could tell something was going on. I think one of the cops took my dad to talk to him, and my mom came out and talked to the other cop. The cops took my dad's initial statement, he admitted EVERYTHING he did.
Including threatening my mom to death, and putting his hands around her throat.
They arrested him, and took him away. The cop ensured my mom, she would be back to talk to her and get a more detailed form of her statement, very soon. Sure enough, once my dad was gone, I was just really concerned to my mom and double checked like a million times asking "Are you sure he's gone?".
Anyways. I think I likely just continued packing things. I don't know if my mom would've actually left, unless I actually started packing. I wasn't even sure at first if I was going to pack, or if we were really finally leaving.
Anyways. After a little bit of time went by, the situation became more interesting and (I don't want to say it... but fun). The cop showed back up, and I kept walking back and forth between the dining room and living room, just so I could pass the kitchen to see the cop sitting at my kitchen table, with my mom. I thought it was so cool a cop was in my house. They were trying to get me to leave and go somewhere else, but didn't really force me to stop.
At this point, I was exhausted. Somewhere along the line, my uncles came down from Belleville, to help us move our stuff (keep in mind this is probably around 11pm-1am right now). All I remember is when I finally got to Belleville, we moved in with my Uncle Stan, aunt, and my cousin Marija, who then was 3 years old. I remember seeing something about 3am, somewhere. But I don't remember the car ride or anything.
I was officially living in Belleville. We got the dog and everything.
On another side note, we ended up moving out of my Uncle's house a month afterwards, and moved into my Grandma's house (which is also in Belleville). I remained in that house from grade 5-early grade 8. About 3 years. 3 years of sharing a bed with my mom. 3 years. 3. Whole. Fucking. Years.
Those three years of my life, I don't remember well. I was scared. Confused. I just wanted to move out.
Anyways, that is the tale of September 29th, 2005. And today (well I guess its now yesterday) marked the 7 year mark of that happening.
Oh, P.S. my dad was an alcoholic, and was likely drunk during this whole thing.
I forgive him.
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