9.21.2006
Schmektor:
The Good Son
It's the salty taste of the tears that reminds me of the last time... the last time the others kicked the shit out of me. The tears taste like blood in my mouth. I remember the humiliation. I remember the laughing, the name calling and the mocking songs. The seeds of sorrow and fear grow into rage and anger. Vengeance will be mine.
I slide out from under the bed and push away the covers. I unbolt the door and open it. Slowly, methodically, I make my way down the stairs to the door. I push my father away from the opening and stare deep into the eyes of fate.
It's the salty taste of the tears that reminds me of the last time... the last time the others kicked the shit out of me. The tears taste like blood in my mouth. I remember the humiliation. I remember the laughing, the name calling and the mocking songs. The seeds of sorrow and fear grow into rage and anger. Vengeance will be mine.
I slide out from under the bed and push away the covers. I unbolt the door and open it. Slowly, methodically, I make my way down the stairs to the door. I push my father away from the opening and stare deep into the eyes of fate.
