Have you ever been to any sport/hobby clubs? Parents love to send their kids there. But not mine. I always begged them to send me to Art School, Music School, and so on. We had money. Enough money to live well. We are middle class. Not impressive and obviously not the reason to show off. But, damn, they didnt wanna spend a single penny on their own children. I, 7 years old, begged my mom to send me to basketball. It lasted over 8 months. And finally, they did it. I turned 8 and was so happy like I got a ticket to Disneyland. So a friend of mine and I went to our first training. Her mom escorted us. And, honestly, it was awesome. I still love basketball, and I guess I would still play if I wasnt 52. Are you kidding, God? Its like the minimum height. No space to get lower. So obviously I wasnt that appreciated in those whole situations but I was a kid that didnt care about anyones opinion.
We actually wanted to do basketball only because of the fact that we would be able to skip school due to competitions. Spoiler: Ive never been to a single competition. But dont worry. I was okay. Its not the last reason to cut myself.
I dont want to beat around the bush anymore. So read carefully, maybe youll think that its not a reason to kill your mom. If you think so, I will cut your throat. Literally. No one has the right to beat a child. You are a grown-up. You are several times bigger than me. You are several times older than me. Shame on you, freak. Im sorry if you cant find an equal rival and is willing to beat a kid who cant even handle her own emotions due to age. But it did not bother you because you are a psycho, fake mother. Damn, I still beat around the bush but Im trying to make you even more curious. Have no idea if I did because, again, Im not a writer.
Winter
December 10
Wednesday
I even remember the day of the week. Impressive, isnt it? I know. I remember every day when my mom beat me in a new way. Special days.
That day I was in my room with my sister, doing homework. The doorbell rings. Im going to see who is there. Trying to look in a peephole. Mommy. Mommy with a right hand in gypsum. You will find out later how I remembered which hand. I open her door. See her crying and do not know what to do.
Is everything okay?, I asked.
Dont ya see?, she answered as I was drunk and couldnt notice her.
Why did you freeze? Bring those bags in the kitchen.
I take the bags. They are heavy. Sister comes to help me.
What happened mommy?
Try to think logically. There is ice-crusted ground outside.
I was so naive. I thought she just talked with me. But she just laughed and after that made jokes about me. Jokes about what? About my curiosity?
You slipped on the ground, I said and tried to hold back tears.
At that moment she hit me in the head. I was used to it. Nothing special. But this hit showed that she certainly slipped on the ground. I laughed after that. A grown-up woman slipped on the ground. Cant you look at what you are stepping on? Thought my curious head.
Hitting wasnt even the worst problem. The worst problem was that I had to take care of her because of her broken arm. Others refused to do it and I had no choice. I had to cook, clean, vacuum, dress her, wash her hair. I hated her and all this stuff. My school and homework did not bother her. How was I supposed to do all this stuff when I was 8 years old? I did not know how to ride a bike. What did you then expect me to cook? Ravioli? If I made a mistake, she would hit me. If I said something wrong, she hit me. She hit me every single day. I wish I had had a tumor because of this. I would have died and no more suffering. I was 8 when I had those thoughts in my head.
That day I had practice at 4:00 AM. I packed my backpack and waited for my friend to call me while my mom was doing something noisy with some man in another room. Did my mommy think that I was not hearing anything? Did she think that I was 2 years old and would not remember it? She was moaning and screaming so hard. It wasnt my dad. She cheated on him all the time. And beat me each time after cheating so that I dont tell my dad. Its her way of coping with the immoral actions she performed. Some people go to psychologists but she chose this option. I was little and had no idea why she was beating me because of what she did.
So practices, in order to escape hell, were my dream as soon as I got home from school.
This time I was even happier to get out of the apartment.
When I reached the spot where my friend and I always meet together, I was thirty-five minutes earlier. So I had to wait. It was winter. Minus fifteen degrees. Extremely cold, considering that I didnt have a winter coat. I was wearing that spring coat for 3 years. It was a bit small for me and definitely not for that days weather. Lucky me, she came ten minutes earlier. But she wasnt alone. As she told me, she came with an excellent idea. This idea was to skip basketball practice. I, as a kid who had never before even had thoughts about it, was shocked. How dare you skip basketball practice.
But we wanted to skip school because of basketball! You dont think clearly!, I said.
Yes, I know our plan! I wanted to skip only today's practice. Nobody is going to find out. Were gonna go to the cafe instead. What do you think?, she enthusiastically answered.
I dont know. Its too risky. I dont want my mom to beat me because of this.
She wont beat you because shes not going to know it. Nobody will tell her!
Are you sure?
Like never before!
I agreed. I dont know exactly why. I just thought that it would be extremely cool to go to the cafe on a weekday. I had no money though.
So we went to a local cafe and when we took off our clothes and the waitress came to us to take an order, only then I said that I had no money. My friend had some, but it wasnt enough to order anything for two people. We apologized and left the cafe.
Why didnt you take the money?, my friend asked.
Because I am supposed to be practicing!
Dont you have pocket money for situations like these? My parents always give me money if I urgently need something.
Sorry but no. They dont give me money at all. Mom said that I should earn my own money already.
But you are in third grade.
Cool, isnt it?
She doesnt care.
Im sorry. Lets rather buy hot tea on the street. Im sure we have enough money for two cups.
So we bought two cups of super hot tea. Want to say ahead, I dont like tea. I hate it. But I didnt wanna upset my friend because she was buying it, not me, and being mean and picky is bad.
I actually didnt drink it. I split some tea each time she turned away.
But it was a good day. Definitely. I dont spend much time with my friends because my mom doesnt let me, so I really appreciated this opportunity.
When I got home, mom was in her room, lying in the bed. I said hi and went to my room. In a minute she called me. I was terrified. She could beat me again because I was too loud with my books.
How was your practice?