Violence. Repugnant, alluring, superfluous, indispensable….You remember primary school: running past metal doors and out into the recess playground, the teachers would always say "don't play rough." But inevitably someone would cross the line, and pushes and kicks and punches would be thrown over a crude joke or a prank, or for any one of a million stupid reasons.You were never one of the offenders. But you do remember a close friends being a frequent troublemaker and an almost semi-permanent fixture inside the principal's office; on returning he would parody the principal's lecture in a faux serious voice—”propriety this, behavior that,” and other such things that kids liked to make fun of.But at the end of whatever day he'd decided to make trouble, you would always spot him sitting on a chair inside a bereft classroom, looking downcast. Then you'd see his mother and the homeroom teacher deep in conversation, walking down the hallway and entering the room, closing the door behind them. The following day he'd always return muted and solemn, and no roughhousing would occur for several days. You'd learn many years later that at dinner, when his father would ask "How was everyone's day," his mother would report on her son's mischief. Sometimes his father would wait until after dinner to bring out his belt. Other times, right there and then, he would administer his displeasure.It befuddled you. Education at the point of the sword—a paradox if ever you saw one. But it wasn't something you ever personally experienced growing up, getting "disciplined" in that manner.Your father…>wasn’t around much >wasn't around at all>wasn’t prone to violence
>>6341244>wasn’t around much
>>6341244>wasn't around at all
>>6341244>>wasn’t around much
>>6341244>>wasn't around at all
>>6341244>wasn't around muchCat's in the cradle...
VOTE CLOSED>>wasn't around much [Wins]
>>6341244Your father wasn't around much. Like a shadow, only a silhouette of the man existed in your conscience. He was a soldier, a decorated veteran of the Second World War and the Korean War. When he wasn't fighting a war, he was halfway across the world preparing for another one. You don't know if he was there for your birth, but he definitely wasn't when you took your first steps, graduated primary school, or lost your first tooth. His rare appearances were like catching a whiff of something delicious—overpowering but fleeting. It was just you and your mother, really. Your father never shirked his fiscal responsibility; a colonel's stipend always arrived on the first of every month. Combined with what your mother earned as a professor at St. Cabrini's and her literary royalties, you were never left wanting for any material comfort.This strange situation made you the frequent recipient of one persistent comment: "You're so lucky."Your classmates were under the impression that your mother was "cool"—bohemian and maverick in ways their own parents weren't—and your apartment was "fun" for a myriad of reasons. Mom always kept a well-stocked pantry, you had a television, all the popular comics, toys, and books. On the occasions a critical mass of classmates came over, your mom would enlist Elizabeth "Birdie" Wyckes to keep an eye on things.Six years your senior, she was almost a goddess to your cloistered middle school peers. They rarely experienced such proximity to the fairer sex anywhere else, and they loved to revel in her presence. To you, though, the occasions were tiresome, and they often devolved into puerile contests for her 'affection', you became a captive audience, annoyed at their antics. You remember the last time a large party of classmates ever visited your home. A classmate of yours, Freddie Forrest had tried to hug Birdie after a stupid game. And even though Birdie liked to indulge them you could tell she was tired, and that day you had experienced the perfect storm of events that pushed you over the edge.>>You grabbed Freddie by the collar and shoved him away from her, hard enough that he fell tumbled over the coffee table.>>You shoved your chair back and told him to “stop fucking doing that”, the words tore out of you before you could stop them>>You swept everything off the coffee table. Comics, snack bowls, half-empty soda bottles. The crash was loud enough to freeze the room.
>>6341481>>You shoved your chair back and told him to “stop fucking doing that”, the words tore out of you before you could stop themNever go full white knight.
>>6341481>You shoved your chair back and told him to “stop fucking doing that”, the words tore out of you before you could stop them
>>6341481>>>You shoved your chair back and told him to “stop fucking doing that”, the words tore out of you before you could stop them
>>6341481>>You grabbed Freddie by the collar and shoved him away from her, hard enough that he fell tumbled over the coffee table.Embrace violence.
>>6341306>>6341407https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbtChxwAdj8
>>6341481>>>You swept everything off the coffee table. Comics, snack bowls, half-empty soda bottles. The crash was loud enough to freeze the room.
>>6341481>>You shoved your chair back and told him to “stop fucking doing that”, the words tore out of you before you could stop them
