Disregard To Danger (ManxMan)

KMN(32)

  In school we learn to follow rules and guidelines. They are universal. usually, there would be one kid who defied those rules. People like me, who lived by said rules would envy the kid. Wanting to experience the rush that you receive from rebelling.

   I often wonder if you can change the way you are programed to be. Maybe someday, I will see if I could push past the expectations that my father has  ingrained into me.

In third grade, there was this boy named Lewis. He looked like every other kid in our age group, yet he had a spark in his eyes that set him apart. He would stand up to others, often stating his opinion. Which, would often get him into trouble. Yet, that never stopped the boy. While I on the other hand, feared punishment.

Within reason. At home, if I stepped out of place, my father would jump at the chance of teaching me a lesson. Which often meant me locked into my room after hours of endless abuse. So, seeing Lewis stand up for himself struck envy in me. I wanted to do that. Maybe not at school, but at home.

That was the first time that the thought of standing up for myself against my father had occurred. If I could, I would tell my younger self that it wasn't the same thing. A school boy defying his teachers just so he could say that he did, is not similar to a boy who was victimized by his father. I would tell him not to stay up that night. Waiting for my drunken father to stumble through the doors. Just so I could tell him off.

That night, I lost the last bit of childish innocence that I was clinging onto.

"Walker, you have to get out of your own head."  Dr. Fits says. making me sigh and lean back into the chair.  I look at him with half opened eyes. The drugs they recently prescribed me causes me to feel drowsy, like I was drifting through a lazy river.

"Isn't these sessions supposed to be about delving into my brain?" I mutter, wiping at my face. Wincing at the stubble growing along my jaw. I have given up on keeping up with my appearance a good while ago.

"You have to be with me in order to do that. What are you thinking right now?" He asks me. Causing me to chuckle.

"The real question is, what am I not thinking about?" I joke. My voice coming out coarse from lack of sleep.

"Well then, what were you thinking before I startled you out of your own world?" The older man inquires. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose. I wonder If he knows how much he looks like a therapist.

"My father." I say simply. Not diving into the subject.

"Your father, he seems to be a recurring theme in your emotional state." I look at him sharply. I'm not used to the subject of my father being brought up.

I thought that I buried it years ago. I distanced myself from anything that had touched the man. I didn't even talk to my own brother. To go from a man that was only another soldier, to this. Was a shock.

"He was not a good man. That's putting it lightly. I feared him... which a child should not do. I would hide in my closet with my feet pressed against the door. Praying to whatever was up there that I would go unscathed by his anger. Yet, that prayer was never answered." The thought of the small closet brings back the emotions from years ago.

"Most fathers don't understand the effect that they have on their children. Usually, it's because of the cycle of abuse." he tells me.

"If my father was abused, wouldn't he be empathetic towards his own sons?" I ask him doubtfully.

"Not if he was raised to believe that abuse and physical abuse was the norm." He explains.

"Does that mean that I will abuse my children? Nurture over nature right?" I scoff. Disgusted at the thought of raising a hand at my children.

"I'm not saying that, but I think it would be a good idea to look into your fathers background." he tells me. His words has me reeling. I thought that coming here would help me move forward, not to focus on my past. uncovering years of pain and hatred.

"I know enough about the man to come to the conclusion that he's scum, and doesn't deserve to walk this earth." I growl. Glaring at the man. He meets my eyes with his own. Not feeling threatened in the slightest. I huff, feeling like a child all over again.

"You can never know what is the driving power of a persons violence Walker. You decided to flip your life around. Others do not, and end up continuing in their parents footsteps. You didn't conform Walker, and you should be proud of that." The doctor tells me. I look away from him.

I know that I could have chosen a different path. I could have stayed home, allowing my father to continue using me as his personal punching bag. Which could have lead to me using illegal substances to numb the pain. Instead, I ran away. It may have been the cowardice way, and I will regret not sticking up for myself for the rest of my life.

"I should have handled things better." I sigh. Running my fingers through my short hair. Which has grown out of its military crop.

"How did you handle it Walker?"

"I couldn't handle the abuse anymore. I didn't see a way out, other than joining the military. I left my best friend, who shared the same past as me. I couldn't allow myself to taint his future, he was going places. I could see it in his eyes. If I were to stay in that dead end town, I wouldn't have survived. I would have offed myself." I whisper. shutting my eyes, remembering the many pleas for death.. for peace. I never want to be in that dark place again.

"You were suicidal." He adds in. Jotting things down in his notepad.

"I could never go through with it. The thought of leaving Holden and my brother... I just couldn't" I whisper. Feeling self hatred form in the pit of my stomach.

If I were to buckle under those thoughts, I would have never been given the chance to see Quincy grow into the man he is. That thought has me smiling. At least I made one correct decision in my life.