Christmas Eve Cunt
There are things that we all go through in our lives. I’m certainly not the only one with a story to tell. I know I won’t be the last. If there’s anything I’m certain about it’s talking about your past trials can really help people. I share this story to inspire, not with hatred in my heart. I don’t believe in hate, I believe that forgiveness is very important. I hope that this story will inspire you to stay strong if you EVER have to deal with a situation that feels impossible to handle. I hope you know that you are stronger than you think, beyond measure.
Please never give up and always love yourself, don’t let the world label you. You label yourself.
Las Vegas nights were always nice and warm, I remember looking over the apartment buildings and watching the sunset. The sky would turn that perfect golden color, it’s the perfect sunlight to film in and has always been one of my favorite places for filming. Las Vegas’s beauty attracts everybody from all around the world, especially my long distance boyfriend, he was from Washington. I remember he was the cutest guy ever, emo with longish black and blue hair, we would stay up and talk about cupcakes and all of our favorite bands.
It was Christmas Eve and I wanted to wish him a good one, so, as usual before bed I would give him a call. “Hey, is Brad there?” and his mother answered, she didn’t approve of our “Myspace,” relationship.
“Is this Lora again,” she huffed from the other-side of the line. Then I heard a click and knew that Brad had picked up the phone from the opposite side of their home.”I got it mom, thanks.” And the after about thirty seconds, she would finally hang up the line. It was as if she thought we would assume she hung up, already, before talking.
“Tonight,’s gunna suck, my mom has to work and my dad is a douche,” and honestly, it wasn’t a real Holiday when mom was gone. “ I’m sorry babe. I wish I could be there with you but just wait, soon enough, I’ll have enough money to fly out to Las Vegas and we can go swimming,” Oh, how I loved the idea of swimming with the cutest guy ever, hey, I was only sixteen and he was a couple years older than me. At my school it was a popular thing to decorate our binders with the people we loved most, like our boyfriends, crushes names and family—I liked to decorate mine with emo drawings and Brad.
People always awed at his perfect, model body. And I loved the way he smiled and gazed at the camera. He truly could be a model. It felt good to be the girl that had the hot boyfriend. But it sucked not being able to see each other. I fell for the personality of another person that lived a million miles away, in Washington, love is love, right?
“Yeah, that will be a blast, I can’t wait to see your six-pack. Dork.” We both laughed and then we heard the dial tone, we had the old dial-up “Juno,” internet.
“I love you, I hope you’re night is okay and don’t worry about my mom, if you need to call me please try. I’ll keep the landline by my bed.” It was comforting to know that he was there for me, if he could be. The lines clicked and life was about to begin for Christmas Eve night.
“Mom, I wish you didn’t have to work tonight.” My stomach sunk because the thoughts of him being drunk and in charge, it was quite scary. Mom worked hard and we couldn’t tell her about his alcoholic behavior while he was at home. I know mom always prayed for God to keep our family safe, while she was away over night.
“I’m sorry, I have too, we need the extra money and it’s Holiday pay.” My mom walked into the room and put on her cute little pink scrubs. She loved working at the hospital, working with children made her smile and even as a housekeeper, she always made an impact on those she met. It was Christmas Eve—and I knew she would be making a difference, at least that’s what I told myself because accepting the fact that we had to spend the night with “The Monster,” was quite bothersome.
My bro was in his room playing counter-strike and his girl was watching a movie, she was the closest I had to a sister and we even fought like sisters. I knew that my brother was dating the most popular girl within Silverado High and she was stunning in her beautiful outfits and perfect, long hair. I was pretty fucking thankful to have her in my life and through the years we have grown even closer, because, like t-dawg says, we never go out of style.
“The turkey is ready,” dad stumbled into my brother’s room and rounded us up for dinner. My sister’s family was coming for dinner and we all sat down to dinner. The Monster was mumbling about how immature his children were and how America just teaches their children garbage and pretty much compared us to garbage. And right as he stuck the knife into the Turkey, it splattered on the plate and blood fell from the pink skin. The chomps from his loud mouth were disgustingly loud and he continued to eat the uncooked turkey like a coyote.
Sadly, we all did our best not to touch the meat—it was deathly. There was no prayer on Christmas Eve and Satan had full control of our home—it started when Dad started to choke on his hard liquor, he was drinking Smirnoff and mixing it up with some beer. He started choking in the kitchen.
Christmas Eve Cunt
“LAURA, call the COPS NOW.” My bro grabbed my dad from behind and started slamming his hand on his back to get him breathing again, his face was turning blue and purple, I grabbed the cell phone as it jumbled back and forth from my hands, they were numb. “Give me the phone,” and my sister dialed away. I was in shock, running to my room, shaking and crying for my mother, tried to grab the line and then slammed the phone down.
There was no calling, I couldn’t stress her, she had to work and we needed a place to live. Life wasn’t that bad and I needed to just accept it was normal. “What the fuck is wrong with my children? Why the fuck would you call the cops on your father, you god damn cunts! Laura you’re a fucking bitch and a traitor, if I want to die in my house, then let me fucking die on the kitchen floor.” My brother was grabbing his backpack and trying to get out of the house.
“You piece of shit, fuck you, you’re not my son, get the fuck out of my house.” Dad charged at him like a bull on fucking roids. slamming into the wall and bro was out the house. Dad came stumbling down the hallway.
“You’re a piece of shit tom boy, fuck you and your damn skateboard.” I heard a few booms. “My own fucking daughter calling the cops on me, what the fuck is wrong with her.” He began screaming at me again, from the room that was only a few feet away.
“You are a fucking boy, you’re not my little girl.” I heard him take a drag of his fucking cigarette’s. My little body was shaking and my mind was envisioning my skateboard slammed right through his skull. “ You’re nothing but a idiota, puturosa(Romanian), like your sister.” This time he was referring to the sister that was living away from him because of his psychoses, she chooses to leave and live in Utah. And I remember it stung every time he cussed me out and told me I would never be good enough—for anything.
“You better not tell your mom and remember, if..” and he began drinking again, his face all red—he smacked his lips together as if he was a big bad ass, standing outside my door, now. “if you fucking ever call the cops on me again, I’ll kick your fucking ass, cunt.” He slammed his bottle into my radio, I tried to listen to oldies on 106.5—it was encouraging music that reminded me of my mother.
I pushed myself closer to the wall and picked up the phone, I wanted to call Brad but he was getting onto the internet because all I heard was a dial tone. “let me see the naked ladies,” he says in Romania to the women in the courtroom, he spent most of his time on this chatroom, committing adultery. Mom had suffered a lot when he would make her show her body to strangers, he would make her do it and told her that she would like it—but she didn’t, if she didn’t listen to him he would make her feel lousy and unbeautiful.
“Show your ass to them, shake it, now show them your pussy.” the computer screen would ding and the person on the other side would be inquiring for more. The man was disgusting. He had no respect for his wife and the thought of him making her do this, it sickens me and God knows that she’s suffered enough. All she’s ever wanted was a home and steady income and so far—all there was is suffering.
“Laura, we should go sell our DVD’s and leave.” My mom was ready to leave. And now I was excited but was it too good to be true?
To Be Continued…..
The reason why I started PCG!
These things aren’t always easy to talk about, it’s not the kind of video where the memories will make me smile. But I do hope it will be some sort of inspiration for you to make the world a better place.
Love yourself Unconditionally and never believe the negativity of others!