Day Nine: Lost time – Part IV
Did you miss Part I, Part II, or Part III?
The pain shot from my back to every part of my body. It was intense, white-hot, and it brought me up in the bed ready to fight.
“What do you want?â€
“The garbage! You forgot to take out the garbage. You always forget things! What’s wrong with you, anyway? Now get up and take out the trash!â€
“But, dad, it’s raining. Can’t I take it out in the morning?â€
The swift slap was followed by even more rage. “Don’t you ever talk back to me! Now go do what I said!!â€
I cried as I took out the trash, and the tears mixed with the rain and soothed my throbbing cheek. Drops from heaven ran down my back and cooled the new stripe that had been added to my reminders of other nights. I wanted to stay outside. I wanted to walk down the driveway and never come back. But, I couldn’t. My mom needed me. She needed me to protect her, to fix our family.
As I crawled back into my bed, I was already dreading the next night. It would be the same as tonight, and last night, and the multitude of nights before those. Last night it was the dishes, tonight the trash. I could never please him, no matter how hard I tried. He always found something that I had done wrong, or hadn’t done at all. As I slipped into sleep, I prayed that God would make me a good kid.
Tomorrow: Lost time – Part V
Nope, he’s not writing his bio, he’s writing mine. And I’m still wondering why, but I’ll stick with it. Only cause he inspired me to start writing again. My church peeps are enjoying my installments of “Diary of a Stressed Christian Mom”….ty Paul!
Glad it’s inspired you to write again.
Hey church! Where can we go to read these installments?
It’s sent out weekly through a ministry called “S.T.U.F.F.” to our e-mail circle out there in the workplace…