Vernon – Ep. 3

Day 8: There’s something you should know. I’ve never told this to anyone. Well except Missy, she has seen my at my worst. The fact that she still wanted to marry me after what she saw makes her either a saint or horribly stupid and naive, I guess it might be a combination of both. Harsh to say that about the mother of my kids but that’s how I feel right now. She’s not a horrible person like I’m making her sound but… I don’t know I’m just disappointed on so many levels it’s hard to articulate all of it. I guess I’m wondering who gets the blame for the shattering my life into fragments, I know I’m a culprit but there are other forces that contributed.

My father was an alcoholic. I’m not saying that so you’d feel sorry for me. I don’t care about your empathy.  I’m not saying that to explain away the mess I’m in but it’s just a fact of my history. I didn’t choose the family I was born into, God just decided to curse me that way.

My dad would get violent towards my mom. You think of drunks and you imagine homeless people or drug addicts to be drunks but my father was neither. He was the city comptroller. People loved him so much that during Christmas our entire basement was full of gift baskets we got all kinds of important people– the police chief, mayor, state senators, I think he even got a gift basket once from a presidential candidate. What these people don’t know is that my dad was a tortured man. I never got to know him well and all my mom would say is that he had a hard life but made something of himself, whatever that means.

You can make yourself into batman or spider man but if you’re a piece of s*** inside, if you’re a despicable human being that beats on your wife and your kids you can just go to hell in my opinion. I know that doesn’t sound Christian of me… honestly I don’t know if I can call myself that anymore. I just don’t. I think God exists but I just don’t think he cares. I really don’t. He just doesn’t care, you create your own luck good or bad but I honestly think he delights in it when we suffer. It’s like Jesus Christ suffered so why won’t you. God cheers when our lives fall apart. I picture him eating popcorn when we lose a loved one or get sick are get hurt in  a crash. I picture him high-fiving his angels because our lives are being ruined and why… all he wants is for us to come grovelling back to him and beg for mercy… that to me is a narcissist not a God and I don’t think I want any part of that.

Anywyay one night when my dad got home he was already half past drunk. He was yelling at my mom and hit her and our dog Jake started barking. Jake was a rat terrier, white and brown dog and loved the water. He had a knack for catching water snakes and bringing them into the house. My mom would freak out and she wanted to get rid of the dog but we cried and she just couldn’t do it.  So we named him Jake the Snake, after the wrestler.

On this particular night I think Jake bit my dad and my dad and he grabbed Jake and put him in a trash bag and left the house. Dad didn’t come back home that night. That was the last time I saw Jake. We never talked about it and in that moment I realized the beast that lived right under the surface of my dad’s facade and that scared me. We walked on egg shells around him and if we said the wrong thing he would snap.

My mom was so scared to leave him. I can only imagine her reasoning why she stayed but she basically died of depression. They said she was heavily self medicating which doesn’t really surprise me. She was just a ghost moving through time. Human beings love being slave to things, addiction, misery, destructive life, money, women or whatever. We have no independence we want to be shackled by things that destroy us. When we get liberated we just trade one prison for another, that’s why religion exist, that’s why cults exist. They are a prisons that people willingly walk into. It’s possible that I’m the most free man, more than even you. I don’t owe anybody anything anymore. Doesn’t matter what I do, my death is around the corner… at this very moment that seems comforting– some nights it doesn’t but some days I just don’t care and I think death can’t be such a bad thing.

My childhood home was close to the woods. I loved that place, we thought it was enchanted and Robbie and I would go there and play for hours pretending to me princes or knights, actually we were always Knights. No boy wants to be a prince, we all want to be Knights because deep down within us we want to be heroes. I ponder that sometimes and I guess for me the Knights I pretended to be were the only heroes I saw in my life. They were my idea of what a real man is supposed to be. That trait is what kept drawing me closer to Tara. I needed to save her on some level.

When dad would beat on mom, Robbie and I would hide in the woods. We believed it would protect us from him. Until one night he came to find us in the woods. He made us strip and he beat us with tree bark. The woods lets us down just like everyone else and the magic was gone. So whenever I got angry I would go into the woods scream at the top of my lungs and slam my head against the tree. Most of the time I would black out and remain there because no one bothered to check on me.

Once in awhile Robbie would come looking for me but only because mom made him do it. Robbie hated the woods as much as I did but his way of dealing with it was to avoid it altogether and my way of dealing with it was unleashing my anger there. That’s the difference between Robbie and I. I don’t know which way was more destructive but I imagine the destruction was equal but manifested in different ways.

That’s my secret that only Missy knew. I have this dark anger living in me. It feels like I’m possessed when it’s unleashed and there’s not much I can do about it. I imagine that’s what it’s like for Bruce Banner when the Hulk emerges. Although at least for him people can see a physical manifestation and transformation but for me it all happens in the mind.

Missy found out about my anger one night cus we went to a high school football game. I honestly don’t remember much about that night but when we were leaving I saw this guy being really rough with his girlfriend and I tried to stop him. He called me a few names and Missy told me we should just leave and then the guy went in on Missy. I think he even grabbed her. I’m not sure, then I just snapped. I honestly don’t remember what happened but Missy said I bit him the man. I do remember the taste of blood in my mouth but I wasn’t sure if it’s because he punched me. He ended up in the hospital and needed plastic surgery. We left the scene… I kept up with the guy because of the newspaper. No one knew who attacked him but when I got home I just couldn’t calm myself down. I ended up smashing my head on the bathroom mirror and it wasn’t until I felt the warm feel of blood on my face did it calm me down.

… I’m not crazy. I need you to understand that. I’m not crazy. You’re probably just looking at me and judging me like everyone else now. You don’t understand me. You see things that maybe you wouldn’t do then you’re starting to think well maybe this man is violent. Maybe he’s the one that killed Christine and Karl. I know you’re thinking that but I swear to my God as he looks down upon me in judgement, I didn’t kill them.

Tara always hated her mom. She was a meth addict and Karl was her dealer and they lived together, which is just a messed up situation to be in on so many levels but that’s something we can talk about later. Karl was also Jason’s uncle even though they never really got along. I really believe Tara and Jason planned the whole thing, they are violent people and are unstable. I’m not violent but somehow all the evidence came pointing at me.

How could I deny? I was having an affair with Tara and Christine found out and blackmailed me. That gives me motive I guess but that’s not even the half of it. Police didn’t care. It was an easy case and they found a scapegoat. One day I was preaching the good news the next day I’m the devil incarnate. That’s how this world treats human beings, we set each other up for success then devour them. We’re a race of vampires, we have to destroy one another to feel alive. We don’t care about nuiance. We don’t care about history, we don’t care that our own views can he skewed– all we want is blood. That’s the way of the world. Blood.

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~ by Ahmadu Garba on August 3, 2015.

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