The summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school, I spent two weeks at my aunt and uncles house. After Dad dropped me off, and before Dad left, I was given the standard warning, "Don't give your aunt any trouble or else".
Aunt Denise was pretty cool, she took two weeks off work. Aunt Denise lived in Northern Virginia and she took me into Washington D. C. sight-seeing every day.
I didn't care for Uncle Jerry too much. He worked a mid-shift, so he was usually sleeping when Aunt Denise and I left for the day. He didn't get home from work until around 11:00pm, so I didn't see him most of the time. Which was fine by me.
My aunt was also on a womans soccer team. Her soccer team had practice twice a week, and she brought me to practice while I was there.
"Hey Bob, this is my nephew, Chris," Aunt Denise said to her coach the first night she brought me to practice. "Chris, this is my coach, Bob Slaughter."
"Hi, Chris, how's it going?" he said to me, shaking my hand.
"Mr. Slaughter," I answered.
"Bob, call me Bob," he said smiling.
"Chris is an all-star soccer player," she bragged.
"Really," Bob said, "so, care to help out? We are going for the championship."
"Sure," I said.
I watched practice for a little while and when Bob asked me for my opinion, he actually took it, much to my surprise. My aunt worried that she was the worst player on her team. She wasn't, but she wouldn't listen to me when I told her that. Said I was bias or something. She wasn't the best either, but she was good.
I was having a blast spending time with her, we always got along well. Aunt Denise would let me sleep in until about 9:00 am, wake me up to a cooked breakfast, take me to D. C. for the day, go back to their house for dinner, and then somewhere else in the evening. One day we drove to Kings Dominion, an amusement park a few hours away.
I had been there almost a week and we still hadn't covered all the museums in D. C. yet. We had just got back from her soccer practice, and I was in the bathroom taking a shower. As I stepped out of the shower, I heard Aunt Denise arguing with my uncle. He wasn't usually home yet. I got dressed as quickly as I could and came out of the bathroom.
"Dammit, Jerry, we've been through this before. I'm not doing this again," she yelled.
Right then, I walked up. "Aunt Denise, you ok?" I asked. This little scene was not changing my opinion of my uncle very much. I could tell Aunt Denise was pretty mad.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why don't you go wait in the family room?" Aunt Denise answered.
"You sure?" I asked, still looking at Jerry.
"Hey, kid, didn't you hear what your aunt just told you? Don't you know how to listen? Get the _f_u_c_k_ out of here!" he yelled at me.
"Jerry! Shut up!" Aunt Denise yelled To me, she said, "It's ok, just go in the family room, I'm fine."
I looked at her, I didn't want to leave, but she nudged me along, so I went into the family room and sat down. For the next few minutes I heard hushed voices, but I could tell they were still arguing. Finally I heard the front door shut and Aunt Denise walked into the room.
"What was that about?" I asked.
"Nothing," she answered.
"Bull _s_h_i_t_! That didn't sound like nothing!" I told her.
"Christopher -- watch your language! I know your dad doesn't put up with that kind of talk, neither will I," she scolded.
"Sorry. But it didn't sound like nothing, what's going on?" I asked again.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't know. Chris, I just don't know. Some days we get along great, other days I just don't know why I stay with him. Today is one of those days."
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"Yeah, kiddo, I'm ok. Jerry just drinks too much. When he's drunk, he's an asshole. Hey, don't tell your dad Jerry was drunk and we had a fight," she told me.
"Uh...why?"
"Because your dad doesn't think I should stay with your uncle. Your dad never liked Jerry to begin with," she told me. "I really don't need him playing "big" brother right now." Even though Dad was four years younger then Aunt Denise, he was protective of her and it was a running joke how he plays big brother to her.
"Aunt Denise, Dad'll kick my butt if I lie to him. You know how he is about lying."
"Well, then just don't mention it..... I seriously doubt he'll say So Chris, did Jerry get drunk and pick a fight with my sister while you were there?' Ok??"
"Yeah, ok."
Then next day, Jerry came home from work early. With flowers this time.
"Babe, I'm so sorry. I acted like an idiot," he told her.
She looked at him really hard, and just said "Uh-huh".
Jerry looked at me, "Hey, Chris. I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday. I was just angry, and I didn't mean to take it out on you. I could tell you were ready to protect your aunt from me, if you needed to. That's commendable, I like that in a man. You're just like your daddy. You might look like your mama, but you are protective like your daddy. And your daddy is a good man."
I was still leery of him, that sounded like a serious line. But he complimented my father, so maybe he wasn't all that bad. By the end of the evening, I was starting to feel like I liked Uncle Jerry more. I had never really spent any time with him before, I had just heard stories about him. Aunt Denise relaxed and we had fun. But, there was a part of me wondering why Dad didn't "approve" of Jerry. I wondered if it was just because of his drinking.
Everything went well until a few days before Dad was coming back to get me.
Aunt Denise had a headache, so she went to bed early. I was still up when Uncle Jerry came home from work. I looked at the clock, it was around 1:00am. He is usually home by 11:00pm, guess he went out after work.
Uncle Jerry came into the family room where I was watching television. "Hey boy, what are you still doing up?" he slurred.
"Not tired, just flipping channels. Aunt Denise had a headache, so she went to bed early tonight," I answered.
Uncle Jerry sat down in the chair next to the sofa. I could smell alcohol on his breath. I snuck a few good looks at him, his eyes were bloodshot, his nose was a little red and he was swaying a bit in the chair. He was trashed big time. I wondered if he drove home like that. _d_a_m_n_, my dad is rubbing off on me if I actually thought of that. (Dad's a cop.)
"You really look like your mama, you know that, kid?" Uncle Jerry said.
I nodded, slightly, still watching television, "Yeah, people tell me that a lot."
"Your mama is one hot little number, always has been...." Uncle Jerry said, his voice trailing off.
Oh geez, he's drunk and he want to talk about my mother. I'm starting to feel uncomfortable.
"You need a haircut, boy," he suddenly said.
"No, I don't," I answered him. It was the 80s, and I did have that 80s mullet, but I played sports in high school. My hair had to be a certain length to play on the school teams. Sure, it was the summer, but my hair hadn't grown out that much. It wasn't even to my shoulders in the back yet.
"You look like a _d_a_m_n_ hippy," he answered. "Just like your mother. She was a _d_a_m_n_ hippy too, you know that?"
I looked at him without turning my head. I really wasn't liking where this conversation was going.
"Yeah, your mama was a _d_a_m_n_ hippy. Once your daddy met her, well, there was no turning back. He was taking some college course when he met Doug. Your uncle kept telling Danny about his wild kid sister that he had to raise. How she used to sneak out of the house at night and he'd have to beat her ass after she got home. She thought she was so smart, but your uncle put her in her place every time. Sneaking out going to concerts or rallies. Yes, sir, your mama was a handful. He used to beat her ass all the time just trying to make a lady out of her. Didn't work too well...... But, I think your daddy was in love with her before he even met her. He never dated that kind of girl before. He always dated nice girls. Until Lia."
"Uncle Jerry, can we please change the conversation?" I asked politely.
"Whats the matter, boy? Making you feel uncomfortable?" He laughed. "It's the truth boy, you outta know about this...." He laughed again, and then continued. "Yeah, then Doug introduced your daddy to your mama. Your daddy took one look at her and he was a goner. All that long, wild blonde hair, nice tight ass and big tits..... She never wore a bra then and her titties would be bouncing.... You'd bust a nut just lookin at her..... Bet she still doesn't wear a bra, does she? Yeah, she was a hot little number and she loved to flaunt it....."
"Uncle Jerry, please, I really don't want to talk about this," I asked again.
He completely ignored me. "Oh yeah, your daddy used to date nice girls until he met Lia. Wild, Lia..... She was a wild little tramp and she wrapped your daddy around her little finger but good. She knew something good when she saw it. And Lia always got what Lia wanted."
"Stop it! Stop talking about my mother like this, I don't want to hear it," I said loudly.
He laughed more. "Yeah, your mama is something else. You know, your daddy _f_u_c_k_ed her on their very first date?"
"Uncle Jerry, I don't want to know this, it's none of my business, so just stop," I argued with him. I was really starting to get pissed off. But this was my uncle, I am supposed to respect him, but it's getting harder and harder to do that.
"Your daddy came home all happy that first date. Yes, sir, he thought he _f_u_c_k_ed her brains out, but she _f_u_c_k_ed his. Had him in her trap. After that first date, he was gone - lock, stock, and barrel."
"Stop! Shut up already!" I yelled at him. I supposed I could have walked out of the room, but I didn't think to do that. I just wanted him to shut up and I could feel the anger crossing the line to where all I wanted to do was beat the _s_h_i_t_ of him.
"Your father had her bend over the hood of that vette of his and was banging her with everything he had. He grabbed her by her skinny hips and was banging the hell outta her," he raised his hands up and pretended to imitate this action. "Uhn - uhn - uhn..... Yeah, buddy, the harder he _f_u_c_k_ed her, the more she liked it. And they _f_u_c_k_ed everywhere, didn't matter who was around to catch them. Your mama would be half undressed, bent over and taken what your daddy was giving her."
"SHUT UP!" The more I told him to stop, the more he went on.
"Yes, sir, she just loved it. I wouldn't be surprised if you boys were conceived while your father _f_u_c_k_ed her like a bitch dog in heat! He'd be _f_u_c_k_ing her while spanking that white hot ass of hers, titties bouncing all over that place and she's loving every minute of it --"
"SHUT UP! Just shut the _f_u_c_k_ up!" I yelled at him, and got up from the sofa to punch him.
Apparently my yelling woke Aunt Denise up. She came into the family room to hear me tell say this.
"Christopher Stephen!" she yelled at me. She grabbed me by my upper arm, spun me around and slapped me in the face.
I looked at her, but didn't say anything.
"I will not tolerate this type of language in this house, do you hear me?"
"But he --" I started.
"Don't you "but he" me. I've warned you about your language before, I will not tolerate it! Do I make myself clear?!"
I just looked at her. I touched my face where she slapped me.
"CHRISTOPHER!?"
Angrily, I said, "Yes, ma'am."
Uncle Jerry got up. "I don't know what's got into that kid, I just told him it was time to turn the television off and go to bed," he lied. "Boy, I won't tolerate that again. Next time you cuss at me, I am going to put you over my knee, are we clear?"
What??!!! Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine. You bastard, I thought. You lying son of a bitch.
"Are we clear?" he repeated.
I stared at him, not answering. I couldn't believe he just lied like that. I was still trying to fight the urge to take a swing at him.
"Christopher, your uncle just asked you a question," Aunt Denise warned. "When we ask a question, we expect an answer. I know your father taught you better manners then this."
I looked at my aunt and said, "Yes, ma'am." I was really angry, but I tried to push it aside. I wasn't angry at Aunt Denise, she had no idea what her bastard husband just said to me.
"Boy, you better knock that attitude out of your voice, or I'll knock it out of you myself," Uncle Jerry yelled at me.
Taking a deep breath, I said "Sorry" as calm as I could.
"Fine, it's late, lets just go to sleep now," my aunt said.
"No wait, he didn't answer me properly," Uncle Jerry said.
"Yes he did, Jerry," Aunt Denise said wearily.
"No, he answered YOU, he didn't answer ME. I want to hear him say yes, sir' to me. I know he's been taught proper manners. I'm the man of this house and he better respect me. Danny wouldn't put up with his attitude," he argued. "Just because he is your brother's kid, doesn't mean he can treat me like _s_h_i_t_."
You lying _f_u_c_k_ing bastard, I thought. I was so angry, I could feel the adrenaline running through my body. I just wanted to beat the _s_h_i_t_ out of him. No wonder my father doesn't like him.
"Jerry, come on, let it go," my aunt said.
"No! Chris, did you hear what I said? Do we have an understanding? Huh, boy? Next time I hear you cussing your gonna find yourself with a mouth full of soap and a sore butt, you hear that?"
I glanced at my aunt, she was shaking her head, "Jerry, stop it!"
"HUH? Boy, you hear me?" he yelled at me, ignoring my aunt.
"Yes, Uncle Jerry, I hear you. Understood," I said with as much arrogance as I could. I knew he wanted me to say yes, sir', but no way in hell was I going to do what he wanted.
"I want you to say ---" Uncle Jerry started.
"JERRY! Stop it, he answered you. Let it go," Aunt Denise said very slowly and deliberately.
Uncle Jerry nodded at me, and started to walk out of the room. My aunt was in front of him and she walked out. Just before he exited the room completely, he turned to me and said "You're _d_a_m_n_ lucky your aunt came in here, boy."
I was in shock. I have no idea how the last few minutes even happened. One minute I'm watching television, then next I'm listening to this asshole trash my mother.
It was no secret that my mother was a hippy. Dad still teases her about it and calls her a hippy sometimes. Dad had been dating a girl named Janine when Dad met Uncle Doug in a class at the local community college. One night when Uncle Doug's car was in the shop, my mother picked him up and Uncle Doug introduced them. A few days later, Dad called Mom and asked her for a date and they've been together ever since. All of this was "common knowledge". Aunt Denise had already married Uncle Jerry, when my parents started dating. I supposed some of what Uncle Jerry was saying could be true, but he had no right to disrespect my mother that way. And I certainly didn't want to think or know about it. It took me a while, but I finally fell asleep.
The next morning, Aunt Denise woke me as usual. Nothing was said about last nights events. We went to the Air and Space Museum again. Over lunch, I brought up last night.
"Aunt Denise, can we talk about last night?" I asked.
"Do we really need to? Chris, I don't want you cussing. I know your Dad doesn't allow it; your grandfather sure never allowed your father or I to cuss in front of him, so I am not going to allow it either," she lectured. "I have warned you more then once about your language. I know you think it's cool to cuss, and, I don't know, maybe it makes you feel more like an adult, but it doesn't. One of the worst spanking I ever got was for saying the f-word in earshot of your grandfather. Your father had his share of lickings for cussing in front of your grandfather also."
"Yes, Aunt Denise. I understand, and I'm sorry. I will try to control my language," I answered. "But that isn't everything that happened last night."
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Uncle Jerry was trashing on my mother. Bad. Saying stuff that's probably not true, and stuff that I don't want to hear. I asked him to stop, very politely, several times, but he just wouldn't."
"Chris, your uncle was drunk last night. When he's drunk, he runs off at the mouth and most of the time he doesn't have a clue what he is talking about. Just ignore him when he starts."
"No, you don't understand, he was really being ..... nasty. He was saying stuff that is really out of line. I know he was drunk, but that is no excuse. You didn't hear the stuff he was saying about my mom ---"
"Chris. You said it, he was drunk. Just ignore him and let it go," Aunt Denise said again. "Besides, he's always had a thing for your mom. He thinks she is so pretty, whenever we come home from seeing you guys, he'll go on and on about how pretty she is and how she is such a good mother. If I didn't know better, I'd be jealous. Just ignore whatever he tells you when he's drunk. He don't know what he is saying and he probably won't even remember it the next day."
I didn't understand why she was defending him. But, I could tell she didn't want to continue this conversation, so I let it go. I was glad Dad was coming to get me soon. It was definitely time to go home.
We were gone most of the day and when we got back to her house, there was a message on the answering machine.
"Hey, Denise, this is Cathy. I know you are on vacation and that your nephew is in town, but I really need your help with something. Please call me."
"Who's Cathy?" I asked.
"That would be my boss. Hmm.... Something must have happened or she wouldn't call me...." Aunt Denise speculated.
"Hey, I'm fine. If you have to go to work for a few hours, go for it. I'll just sit here and watch the tube," I told her.
"Well, let me call her back and see what she wants," she said.
Aunt Denise was right, something had happened at work, and she needed to go to her office for a few hours. I was flipping channels when Uncle Jerry walked in.
"Hey, Chris," he called.
"Uncle Jerry," I answered politely. I was still mad at him, but maybe Aunt Denise was right, he was just drunk last night.
"Where's Denise?" he asked.
"She had to go to work," I answered, still flipping channels.
"She had to go to work?" he repeated. "But she's on vacation."
"Yeah, but her boss called and she had to go in," I told him.
"She had to go in? That's bull _s_h_i_t_. Un-_f_u_c_k_ing-believable," he said angrily.
"Hey, it's ok. She doesn't have to stay with me all the time, I told her it was ok," I said trying to be helpful.
"Oh, you told her it was ok. So, I guess that just makes it alright, then, doesn't it?" he asked very sarcastically.
I had no idea what to say. He's jumping down my throat for no reason. I took a good look at him. He was drunk again. I think more drunk then last night. Why do I feel like round two is coming up? "I didn't call her in to work, why are you getting mad at me?"
"I'll just bet her work called her in," he growled. "Where you here when her boss called?"
"No, we were out and there was a message on the machine. Why are you cross examinating me about this?"
"I'm not!" he argued.
"Yes, you are. You're bitching at me because Aunt Denise got called into work. It's not my fault," I argued back.
"Hey, watch your mouth, kid!" he snapped. "I thought we covered that last night!" He paused for a second, "Did you hear Denise call her boss back?" he demanded as he grabbed the remote control from me and turned the television off.
"No, she called from your bedroom," I answered angrily. "What is your problem, man?"
Jerry grabbed me by the shirt and started shaking me. I tried to break his grip, but he was stronger then me. "She is on vacation, she ain't at work. She's with Bob, isn't she?"
"Bob? Bob who?" I yelled. I still tried to pry his hands from my shirt, but he had a good grip.
"Bob, her _f_u_c_k_ing soccer coach. I see the way he looks at her, watches her, tells her what to do, I know his game, he just wants to get in her pants!"
This was beyond anything I ever thought I'd be hearing. I didn't know how to react.
"Look, I don't know anything about that. There was a message on the answering machine from her boss ---- Kelly, Carrie, Cathy, something --- she called her back and now she is at work. That's all I know. Alright?" I yelled back at him.
Still grabbing my shirt, he pulled me towards the telephone. He let one hand go to reach up, grab the phone and dial Aunt Denise's work phone number. It rang and rang. Aunt Denise didn't answer the phone.
"See, she ain't there!" he roared at me. "I don't need a _f_u_c_k_ing, snot nosed, hippy, kid lying to me!"
He slammed the phone down and shoved me up against the wall.
"I'm not lying, you asshole!" I yelled.
SLAP! Jerry slapped me across the face. I wasn't expecting this, and I didn't have time to block it. He re-grabbed me and shoved me against the wall again. I tried to break free of his grip, but couldn't. I was 15, weighing about 140; he was in his late 30s and weighed at least 225. When I couldn't break free, I decided to punch him instead. My first punch landed square on his jaw. For being a lot weaker then he was, it was a sweet punch. It was the only punch I landed. My second punch was blocked and he had me pinned against the wall screaming obscenities at me the entire time.
"You stupid, _f_u_c_k_ing kid!" he bellowed, as he shoved me against the wall. "You lying sack of _s_h_i_t_!"
"What the _f_u_c_k_ are you doing, you lying bastard!" I yelled back at him.
"You know what you need? You need to get your skinny ass beat!" He shoved me against the wall, slapped me in the face again, and then threw me towards the sofa. "Yeah, that's what you need. A good ass kicking. Your hippy mama must have turned your daddy soft, because if it was up to your daddy, I know you would have better manners then this, boy."
My face was stinging big time and the back of my head hurt from where he was shoving me against the wall. I fell on the sofa and tried to find my footing before he grabbed me again. I almost made it away from him when I felt him grab the back of my neck.
I turned and swung at him. My punch glanced off his arm. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me down on the floor. He re-grabbed me and positioned me so I was kneeling on the floor but I was bent over with my face in the sofa cushion. He put his knee in my back pinning me to the sofa.
The whole time I'm yelling obscenities at him, just as he is yelling them at me. I fought for all I was worth, but couldn't get free. I had a 225 pound giant kneeling on me. I heard him pull off his belt.
Oh _s_h_i_t_, this son of a bitch is going to beat me! I fought with everything I had, but I couldn't break free. I twisted my arms around trying to punch him, but none of my punches had any force behind them. I was at a bad angle and it was no use. The next thing I heard was his belt whistling in the air.
CRACK!
Oh _f_u_c_k_ that hurt. It landed dead center on my ass. I'm glad I had decided to put jeans on tonight and not a pair of shorts.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He continued to whip me and I fought him until I couldn't any longer. I could still feel the sting in my face and his knee was killing my back.
I steeled my throat. I might not be able to stop him from whipping me, but I could stop myself from giving him the satisfaction of letting him know how much this hurt.
I managed to turn my head to look at him. He had doubled the belt over, but he was holding the belt in the middle, letting the two loose ends hit me; including the buckle end. No wonder this was hurting so bad. It felt like I was getting whipped twice with each lick. And that buckle end sure didn't tickle.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
My ass was throbbing. He was really whipping me hard, but I had not yet made a noise. In the distance, I could hear him yelling at me, but I refused to focus on what he was saying.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He was whipping me harder then my father ever had, but somehow I managed to not utter a single whimper. I could feel tears forming in my eyes, but I wasn't really crying. They were forming more out of anger then pain.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He had whipped me almost thirty times, and I still had my throat locked. I refused to give this bastard the satisfaction. I always cried when my father punished me, and he didn't whip me this hard. I guess when my father punished me, deep down, I knew I deserved it and I accepted his authority over me. I knew I didn't deserve what my uncle was doing to me and that gave me the strength to not make a noise.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled up to a standing position. Uncle Jerry was shaking me with one hand.
"So, you think you are a tough guy? Huh? Mr. _f_u_c_k_ing Toughguy! What do you think of this, Toughguy?"
SLAP! He had thrown the belt on the sofa and backhanded me in the face with his right hand. His left hand still had my shirt.
I saw stars and tasted blood in my mouth.
"_f_u_c_k_ you!" I yelled at him. I suppose that wasn't the right thing to say to someone who is stronger then you are and who is beating the _s_h_i_t_ out of you, but I didn't care.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP! Backhand, forehand, backhand.
The stars I was seeing were turning into constellations now. Big Dipper, Little Dipper.....
In my daze, I felt Uncle Jerry drag me into the kitchen. He pinned me against the sink and turned the water on. Before I even knew what was happening, he shoved a half of a bar of soap in my mouth. That bastard squeezed dish detergent on the soap before he shoved it in my mouth too.
Oh crap, that tasted awful. That just reignited my fight against him. But, as I said he outweighed me by almost 100 lbs, and he was pressed up against me. He was standing directly behind me. He leaned into me and I could feel my nuts being shoved into the handle of the fake drawer below the sink. I'm not sure if he did this on purpose, or if it just happened to work out this way, but my arms were folded behind my back. He leaned his body weight against me, his arms were around my elbows which tightened the fold in my arms, and making it impossible for me to move them.
With one hand, he had pried my jaw open and with the other, he shoved the bar of soap across my tongue and teeth. I kept trying to move my head and that only succeeded in getting the foam and bubbles shoved up my nose. At one point I felt his hand in my mouth and I bit him. In order to bit him, I had to also bite down on the soap. I felt the now soft bar of soap squish when my teeth made contact. My teeth were coated more with the soap, but it was worth it hearing him yell because I bit him. I was rewarded with several slaps to the back and side of my head.
For the next several minutes he washed my mouth out. When I was to the point of gagging, he would take the soap bar out of my mouth, rinse it, soap it up while I was coughing and spitting. He'd give me about ten seconds of choking and then he'd shove the newly soaped up bar back into my mouth. He did this about four or five times. At least three of those times, he put more dish detergent on the soap before shoving it back in my mouth. I have never had my mouth washed out so throughly in my life. Of course, his main objective to teach me a lesson for cussing failed. If I could have spoken while I was gagging, I would have told him to _f_u_c_k_ off.
Just when I thought I was going to puke, he stopped. He shut the water off, but held the bar of soap in my mouth and asked, "You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again?"
I didn't answer. He started shoving the bar around my mouth again. He scooped up all the foam that was running down my face with one hand and shoved it back in my mouth and held my mouth closed, or closed as much as possible. A lot of the bar was gone, but it still stuck out a little past my lips. Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back so most of the soap foam stayed in my mouth.
He asked me again, "You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again?"
I closed my eyes. My mouth felt tasted like acid. My face hurt from where he slapped me. I think he had busted my lip because I could taste blood mixed in with the soap. The back of my head hurt from getting shoved against the wall and from where he was grabbing my hair. My nuts ached from where he kept shoving me against the sink; he racked me three times now. My back hurt from where he kneeled on me. My ass was throbbing and it felt like an inferno from being whipped so hard. But I still wasn't ready to give in yet.
This pissed him off more. He stretched his hand out in front of me and slapped me in the face again. Because my face was wet with water and soap, this slap really stung. I coughed and some of the soap came out of the sides of my lips and down my chin again. He scooped up the foam from my face and sink and shoved it back in my mouth, getting more up my nose then in my mouth.
Again he asked, "You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again?"
I ached all over, but I still wasn't quite ready to give in yet. He was pissed. He started shoving me up against the sink hard and cussing me out again. I don't think he even realized he was racking the hell out of me by doing this. He slapped the side of my face three or four times in a row. I didn't feel it as much as I felt the white pain in my balls.
"You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again, you little hippy bastard?"
I couldn't take any more. The bar of soap was now fully in my mouth and his hand was covering my mouth so I couldn't spit it out. I couldn't verbally answer him. As much as I hated myself for doing this, I slowly shook my head no.
He moved his hand and pulled the bar of soap out of my mouth when I opened it. I spit into the sink like a madman. I could see blood mixed in with the soap foam. That bastard did bust my lip, I thought. Even though he took the soap out of my mouth, he still had me pinned against the sink, so I couldn't rinse. The only thing I could do was spit into the sink.
He repeated his question, "You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again?"
I shook my head no.
"SAY IT!" he bellowed right in my right ear.
"No!" I yelled.
He slapped me three more times on the side of the face. Why does he have to keep hitting the same side? If he keeps it up, I won't have any skin left on the right side of my face.
"You going to tell me to _f_u_c_k_ off again?!"
He turned me just enough so he could backhand me, twice. Again on the right side of my face.
"Huh? Boy!" He yelled.
My face was throbbing and I could hear ringing in my ears. I had lost track of how many times he had slapped or back handed me. Had to be at least 10 to 15 times each. "No.....sir," I finally said through my teeth.
"JERRY! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" my aunt screamed.
I never heard her come in.
"Your _f_u_c_k_ing nephew told me to _f_u_c_k_ off, I'm just cleaning up his _s_h_i_t_ty mouth," he yelled back at her.
"Let him go! Don't you touch him again!"
Jerry backed up off me. He stepped towards my aunt and they started arguing. When I saw it wasn't going to turn violent, I turned on the water and started rinsing my mouth out. I could hear words behind me, but I wasn't paying attention. I rinsed and spit foamy blood a few dozen times. My entire body ached. My head, my mouth, my back, my ass and my balls. My shoulders even hurt from having my arms pinned behind my back for so long. I don't think I've ever had this many body parts hurt at the same time before.
When I finally turned off the water, I felt my aunts hand on my back. I turned to her and she had a wet washcloth in her hand. She handed it to me and I wiped my face with it. There was more blood on the wash cloth then soap.
Jerry apparently had stormed out of the house.
"You need to leave him," I told her flat out.
"What?" she asked quietly.
"I didn't deserve that. He accused you of cheating on him with your coach, called me liar, and beat the _s_h_i_t_ out of me," I told her.
Her mouth opened as she looked at me.
"Sorry about the language," I said as I spit in the sink a few more times.
"What do you mean he beat the _s_h_i_t_ out of you'?" she asked.
"What do you think it means? Exactly what I said. He cussed me out, slapped me around, threw me over the sofa, took off his belt and beat me. Beat me hard. With the buckle end too. He got pissed when I wouldn't cry. When he was finished whipping me, I told him to _f_u_c_k_ off. He bitch-slapped me more, dragged me in here and has been washing my mouth out and slapping me for the past fifteen minutes."
"Oh my God. Chris, oh my God," my aunt started crying. For a split second, I was angry at her. I'm the one that got beat up, and she's crying?
"Don't "oh my God" me. Leave his ass. If he did this to me, he'll do it to you." I waved the wash cloth at her showing her the blood.
Then I realized she was crying because I got beat up, and because it was her husband that did it.
Jerry had hit her before, several times. Each time it was when he was drunk, and he felt sorry for it later. She just kept making excuses for him. But after what he did to me, it was the final straw for her. She called the police and had a restraining order issued against him. She never told the police he hit me, but when the officers came to the house, I think it was pretty apparent. She didn't want me to have to go through the embarrassment of telling what happened. My face was still red and starting to bruise. I had a busted lip and a black eye, so I think they figured it out. Luckily they didn't ask me any questions.
After the cops left, my aunt started freaking out again. She was so afraid to face my dad and he was coming to get me in the morning. I told her how I felt. I told her that I did blame her; she should have left Jerry the first time he hit her. When she told me she felt she had no where to go, I lit into her. I told her she should have gone to my dad and that my parents would have helped her, and that she knew that. Also told her she should have swallowed her pride and asked for help because if she did, he would not have kicked my ass tonight I certainly didn't deserve to get whipped like I did. She cried more, then told me she knew I was right. She apologized and said that she did know she could have gone to my dad, but she was embarrassed to admit to herself that she "failed" and if she couldn't admit it to herself, she couldn't admit it to anyone else. I told her there was still a part of me that blamed her, but that I forgave her. I don't understand how she allowed herself to be a victim like that, but I was glad that she was finally standing up for herself now.
Even though I told her I forgave her, there was still a part of me that was angry. He abused her and she "allowed" it. I know enough about abuse to know that in some situations, the victim does allow themselves to be abused. Probably not conscientiously, but if you don't stand up for yourself, the abuse will happen again. That is what Aunt Denise did.
I tried to fight him back, but he was physically stronger then I was. He was physically stronger then my aunt. But, afterwards, I didn't feel the urge to cower in a corner and hide. I can understand how she felt shame and embarrassment, but the fact of the matter is, it was wrong. He shouldn't ever have hit her, and it wasn't her fault. She needed to stand up for herself. Because she told me not to tell Dad Jerry got drunk and they got into a fight, on some level, she knew it was wrong. She should have gone to someone - anyone - long before now.
He shouldn't have hit me, but in his mind, I think he felt he was disciplining me. He felt I lied to him and that I cussed at him. He knew my brothers and I were spanked if we lied. I did cuss at him, but I didn't lie. But, it wasn't his place to discipline me like that. Lecture me on my language, yell and holler, MAYBE slap me once -- fine, but he took it way overboard. Or, maybe he was just a drunk bastard that knew he could physically overpower and bully me, so he picked a fight and beat the _s_h_i_t_ outta me.
I think what I found amusing was the fact that I didn't cry or yell while he was whipping me. Dad whips hard, but not like that. Jerry was really hitting me hard, but I didn't make a sound. I try so hard to do that when Dad punished me, take it like a man - especially in front of my brothers, but I always ended up crying, at least a little. I guess it is because I trust my father and accept his authority over me. While I probably disagreed, (because who really wants to get punished) I do accept his authority over me and figured if he feels I deserve to be punished, then I do. Punished, that is the key word; my father punishes me, Jerry beat me.
Dad drove up the next morning. He took one look at me and his face went white....
He walked up to me, put his hand on my shoulders and the back of my neck, studied my face. Quietly asked, "Did you get into a fight?"
I shook my head no.
Even quieter, he asked "Did Jerry did this to you?"
I felt a rush of shame and embarrassment run through me. At that moment, I understood the fear my aunt felt. But instead of giving in to the fear, I stood up straight, looked my father in the eye and said, "Yes".
Dad slowly closed his eyes and he pulled me close to him. I felt him put his arms around the back of my neck and he squeezed me very tight, felt like a protective cage surrounding me. I started to feel tears well up and I couldn't control my emotions. I buried my face into my fathers shoulder. Dad was still a few inches taller then me, so it was easy for me to allow him to hold me. Holding me made me feel very....safe. Dad let me cry. It was the first time I cried.
When I stopped, he put both of his hands on my face. "Are you ok?" he asked gently.
"Yeah -- yes. I'm ok," I answered.
Dad studied the wounds on my face. "Does it hurt?"
"Little bit. I've got a cut on the inside of my mouth, that hurts," I answered him.
"What did he do to you?" he asked.
"Slapped and whipped me - whipped me hard too. Really hard." I paused, "And washed my mouth out for cussing at him, but he cussed me out too."
"When he whipped you, did he pull your pants down?"
"No, it was over my jeans," I answered.
Dad paused. "Did he rape you?" Dad asked.
I was taken back. I never thought my father would ever ask me that question. "No," I answered, shaking my head.
"Chris, I know this is hard, but you need to tell me the truth. Did he rape you?" Dad asked again.
"No, sir," I answered. "He didn't. He didn't even try, he just hit me."
Dad hugged me again. Taking a deep breath, "My sister know about this?" he asked.
"Yes. It happened last night, she wasn't here when it started, but when she came home, she stopped it."
"He drunk?"
"Very," I answered.
I could see my father clenching and unclenching his jaw. Dad was FUMING mad. He put his hands on either side of my face, pulled me close to him, and kissed me on the top of my forehead. "Why don't you go into the other room for a while. I need to talk to my sister."
I nodded and as I turned to leave, I saw my aunt standing there. She had tears running down her face. I walked past her and into the other room. Before I shut the door, I heard my father yell, "What the _f_u_c_k_ is your problem? How the HELL could you let your drunk _f_u_c_k_ing husband do that to my son!?"
I could hear Dad yelling at her and her crying no matter what room I went into. I decided to take a long shower to drown it out. I stood under the hot water for a long time. It stung my face at first. When I grabbed the bar of soap I had a mini flashback of Jerry shoving the kitchen soap in my mouth. I felt angry at myself for allowing that to happen to me, but at the same time I knew I couldn't have fought him any harder then I already did. He was just too strong for me to physically resist him. But, I did mentally resist him and I felt vindicated. He might have whipped my ass, slapped me around and washed my mouth out, but I didn't give in to him. I cried a little more in the shower when I replayed my conversation with my father in my head. Once I felt calm, and pruney, I shut the water off.
As I dried off, I looked at my ass in the mirror. I had one visible bruise on my hip, but my butt was sore. Really sore. It felt like I had a bruise on my back where Jerry's knee pinned me to the sofa, but I didn't see one. My face looked the worst. I had a busted lip. My right eye was black, and I had a few smaller bruises below the black eye. Looking at the bruises, I think they were from when he back handed me about a million times. I got dressed and walked out of the bathroom.
Dad and Aunt Denise were in the kitchen. Aunt Denise was crying on Dad's shoulder and he had his arms around her. Dad looked up at me.
"You ok? Did the shower drown us out?" he asked.
I nodded. Aunt Denise wiped her face, stood up and put her arms around me. "If I only knew, I would have never let this happen."
Quietly I said, "You should have known."
"I know, baby, I know. It'll never happen again."
"Danny, Thursday night I went to bed early because I had a headache. Chris and Jerry got into an argument and they woke me up around 1:00am. Yesterday at lunch Chris told me Jerry was ragging on Lia. I brushed him off and just told him to ignore Jerry when he was drunk. He tried to tell me.... I should have listened..... Oh Chris, I'm so sorry...... And I slapped you for telling Jerry to _f_u_c_k_ off.... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....." Aunt Denise said.
"Sit down, Chris. I want you to tell me everything that happened. Every detail," Dad told me.
"Dad? No, I don't want to. I already told you. I'm sure Aunt Denise told you know what happened, too. Jerry was drunk, he cussed me out and beat me, I cussed back at him and he washed my mouth out." Normally I would have been corrected for not saying "Uncle Jerry", but I purposely didn't say it and Dad didn't correct me.
"Chris --"
"No, Dad, I don't want to talk about this --"
"Chris. CHRIS! I know you don't want to, but you need to. *I* need to know what just happened to my son."
"Dad, I really don't want to do this. He cussed a lot at me; and I cussed back at him. You're not going to like some of the things I said," I told him embarrassed.
"Chris, right now, I don't care what you said to him, you are not in trouble here. Not at all. I want you to tell me everything, as close to exact words as possible. Everything you can remember," Dad said gently.
"But I really did cuss at him a lot," I said again.
"Chris. Wait, son, you don't need to defend him. He --"
"No, no...Dad, believe me I am NOT defending him. I'm, um...I don't know, defending me to you. I know how much you don't like me cussing and I don't want to get in trouble with you."
Dad smiled. "Chris, consider this your free pass. You will not be in trouble with me for cussing at Jerry at all. No matter what you said to him or how many times you said it."
"Ok."
"Chris?"
I looked at him. "Son, tell me what happened."
"I don't know where to start," I told him quietly.
"Start with what your aunt was just telling me. Thursday night when you and Jerry were arguing."
"But he didn't hit me that night," I said confused.
"You said he was ragging on Mom, right?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered, remembering, looking at the floor.
"Start there, don't leave anything out. Tell me every detail you can remember, including all the cuss words," Dad said.
"Yes, sir," I answered. Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly told him everything. Dad prompted me a few times for more details. He helped me remember more then I thought I had. At one point I wondered if this is what one of his suspects feel when he interrogates them.
Even though Dad said I had a free pass, I was worried about getting in trouble for all the cussing I did, but Dad didn't react at all. I could practically see fire from my dad's ears when I was finished. I could tell Aunt Denise was shocked. She apologized to me, again, for brushing me off when we were having lunch in the museum. She said she when I said Jerry was trashing my mom she had no idea that it went to that level.
Aunt Denise left the room when Dad asked me to show him the bruise I have on my hip from the whipping. I felt really embarrassed standing in the kitchen with my pants down. Dad has seen, and spanked, my butt my entire life, but it was still embarrassing. Dad looked at my back where Jerry was kneeling on me. Dad said he could feel the muscles were really tight, but he didn't see any bruising either. After Dad was done examining me, Aunt Denise came back in the kitchen.
We sat in the kitchen kinda quiet after we finished talking. I asked to be excused, I wanted to lay down. Aunt Denise told me to lay on her bed. I heard my father leave right before I fell asleep. He would never tell me where he went, but I think he went to look for Jerry. Judging from the look on his face when he came back, I think Dad found him. He told my aunt that Jerry will never bother her again.
We ate lunch and then Dad drove us home. Aunt Denise was true to her word. She never got back together with Jerry again. Unfortunately he hurt her so bad, she never dated anyone after that. She is still a bit bitter and is rather negative when it comes to relationships. Even though she never took him back, his abuse continues on.
When we got home, Mom and my brothers were just sitting down to eat dinner. Mom held me tight when she saw me. Even though I was fine, when Mom held me, I wanted to cry then too. But my brothers were there, and I wouldn't cry in front of them. Dad had called her before we left and told her what happened. She had told my brothers. When we got home, Dad said we'd eat dinner and then talk afterwards. Dinner was unusually quiet. Nick and Sam kept looking up at me -- but we did sit across from each other, so it was hard not to look at each other.
After dinner, we sat in the family room and Dad told Mom and my brothers what happened. He told them a "fluffed" version. He really cut a lot out. Sammy was thirteen, I guess he was trying to censor this, thinking Sam couldn't handle it. I think he censored it too much, Sam isn't a baby.
When Dad finished telling them the "fluffed" version, Sammy looked at me and said "I don't get it. He whupped you because he thought you lied and you got your mouth washed out because you cussed at him. You," meaning my parents, "spank us if you think we've lied about something. What's the difference? Uncle Doug's spanked us before. I don't understand...."
Yup, he censored it too much, although I expected Nicky to call Dad on it, not Sam. I looked at Dad and then back at Sam. "Dad didn't tell you all the details, Sammy. There's a lot more to it."
"Like what?" Nick asked. "Like how your face got all messed up? Because Dad didn't mention that in his version."
Again, I looked at my Dad, "Dad?"
Mom had tears in her eyes already, Dad held her hand and shook his head yes. He really didn't have a choice but to let me tell them. He knew I would when we were alone later.
I told them the "unfluffed" version. When I got to the part about Jerry trashing Mom, I stopped and looked at Dad again.
"Go on. Tell the whole truth," he encouraged.
So, I did. Mom had tears running down her face. I felt really, really awkward repeating what he said about her in front of her.
When I was done, Nick looked at me and said "So, you at least landed one sweet punch, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
More silence.
"Sam, do you understand now?" Dad asked.
"Yes. Chris was abused. Uncl--- Jerry abused my aunt and my brother. Chris wasn't disciplined, he was abused. But, he stood up to him and didn't give in like Aunt Denise did. Why? Why would she stay with him if he hit her?"
"I don't know. She was scared, but he is gone now. He won't be back. Justice was served."
"NO! That's not good enough. She let him abuse her, and because of that, he abused my brother. No, this is her fault. If she stood up for herself Chris wouldn't have a black eye and busted lip. It's her fault," Sam answered. Sam has a huge sense of right wrong and justice. For him, there is no gray. Strong stand for a thirteen year old, one he never outgrew.
"Sam, she did the best she could --" Dad started.
"No, no..... She didn't. She allowed it. It was wrong and she allowed it. She lied to you for not telling you, and she lied to herself. You always tell us to be careful for what we do because it might hurt someone else, well this time she hurt Chris. No, I'm never going to forgive her for this. Chris, you don't forgive her, do you?"
"I don't know. I guess I do. Part of me still blames her, but she wasn't the one that hit me. Jerry did. It's really his fault...." my voice trailed off.
"What? Are you crazy? This is her fault, don't you see that?" Sam argued with me.
"Sam, I see your point. But I'm the one that got beat up, remember? She screwed up, but he's gone now and I'm ok--" I answered.
"No you're not! You're not ok. You look like _s_h_i_t_ -- sorry Mom -- you look awful. You have a black eye, your face is bruised up, you've got a busted lip; you can't sit down without wincing. He back handed you!!! Chris, he backhanded you! How many times? Four? Five? Six times? More? When has Mom or Dad EVER back handed us? Even that time when Nicky told Dad "no" to his face when Dad told him to put the rakes away, Dad didn't backhand him. Dad didn't even slap or spank Nick. And when does Dad ever have to put his knee in our backs just to hold us in place when he spanks us? He doesn't! What Jerry did was wrong! Just wrong! He didn't discipline you, he BEAT you. He abused you -- he"
"Sammy, I know you're upset, but you need to calm down--" Dad started.
"No, Dad.... No, I'm sorry, why should I calm down? This is WRONG. I don't mean to be disrespectful, Dad, but you asked me how I felt and I'm telling you. It's wrong. I feel it's wrong. Aunt Denise should have known better. She's an adult, she's our aunt. She is supposed to love and protect us, not allow her drunk bastard husband abuse my brother!" A second later, "Sorry, again, Mom."
"Sam, she didn't do it on purpose --" Dad started again.
"Dad, yes, she did. She allowed him to do it to her. I know she is your sister and is my aunt, but, I'm sorry, if I will never forgive her for this. I don't want to see her anytime soon."
We were all quiet for a minute.
"Nick, how do you feel?" Dad asked.
Nick didn't answer immediately. I could tell he was still thinking.
"Do you agree with Sam?" Dad asked.
Nick answered immediate this time. "Yes, sir. Aunt Denise should have respected herself more."
To me, Nick said, "I'm glad you are ok, even though you look like crap. I know we weren't there and even though you told us what happened, it's not the same. But, if you say you forgive her, then I'll try to, but I can't promise anything."
For the first time, my mom spoke. "Guys, listen to me. I see how you might blame your aunt, but the real blame is with Jerry. He is the one who hit your aunt and he is the one who hit Christopher. Yes, your aunt should have acted on this earlier, but she didn't. Being victimized is a very scare place and sometimes you can't find the strength to pull yourself out and stand up for what is right. Aunt Denise didn't abuse Chris; Jerry did. Aunt Denise didn't whip and hit Chris; Jerry did. Your aunt is a victim in all this too. I'm sure she feels so much worse because not only did Jerry hit her, but he hit one of you too. And you know your aunt loves you three very much and, if she had thought this could happen, she would have prevented it."
Later I heard my parents talking. Even though Mom told us Jerry was the real blame, which he was, Mom completely agreed with Sam and was really angry with Aunt Denise. She said she knew plenty of abused women from her classes and how a lot of them felt they couldn't stand up for themselves and that is probably how Denise felt. But because I got caught up in this, even though she knew she shouldn't blame Denise, she did. She was really angry at Denise for not leaving Jerry sooner because if she had, I wouldn't have been beat up. Mom was crying when she told this to Dad.
The next time we saw Aunt Denise, in front of all of us, she apologized and promised to "earn our trust again". I think that helped Nick and Sam forgive her, but I don't know if Mom ever fully did. Nick and Sam acted indifferent towards her at first, but when they saw she was the same person we always knew, they eventually came around. I still get along great with Aunt Denise.
Even though I was the one who got his ass kicked, I think I had the easiest time dealing with it. After a day or so most of the physical evidence of the beating was gone. I didn't let Jerry's trash talk about my mother get to me. Whether or not any of it was true, it didn't change how I felt about my mother and he just wasn't worth it. At the time, I didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that whipping hurt, and I certainly wasn't going to let his words get to me later.
I have never seen Jerry again.
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