Biographical Non-Fiction posted December 5, 2023

Chapters:

...14 15 -16- 17 ...

Exceptional

This work has reached the exceptional level

We waited for the man to return.

A chapter in the book Spectre

The Suspense

by Lea Tonin1

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Artwork by Lea Tonin

Fall from sleep the terrible quake.

Cracks in truth she quickly yelled fake.

Spreads hasty hate I cannot shake.

Stomps my scarred heart a bloodless ache.

She should fear what she cannot see.

For karma comes and there I'll be.

Handing out her old blasphemy.

Maelstrom strikes welcomed sets me free.

Cancer formed generations back.

Lie of shame threw the next off track.

Integrity a trait that they lack.

Her soul to me shines only black.

Slip the chains that bind the abused.

Malevolent grip no fool used.

************************************ present

The holiday hustle and bustle is upon us. It's bittersweet for me, as I usually spend it alone.

The Christmas season can get a smile or two from me. Perhaps it's true. Watching the people around me, the decorations, bright lights, folks running to and fro. Frozen water vapor exhaling from their noses creates a mini blizzard every time they breathe.

However, I am going to inject a little bit levity now with some ho ho ho humor.

Do you know the story of how the angel got on the Christmas tree?

Well Santa and Mrs. Claus were having a really hard year. All they did was argue and fight. The elves weren't doing their job and the reindeer were on strike. All was mayhem. After a while an angel came bouncing in with a large green pine tree.

"Look Santa, look! What shall I do with this pretty tree?"

And that's the story of how the angel got on the tree....

***

Levity is required in life. I swear if we didn't have it, we'd have all gone nuts a long time ago!

Some of you may wonder how could so many catastrophe's could happen to one person. I grew up with it. I knew nothing else. Everyday was a struggle to survive. I learned nothing of relationships and how to deal with people. I knew nothing of how to survive on the outside. Except for what I'd already done in self defense.

I've stumbled around in the dark, made many mistakes with people, placement and circumstance. I would underreact, or I would overreact, as I never knew what was appropriate.

A wacky rinse of feelings we're churning inside and being deciphered by a novice. This could have, shall we say, interesting results.

It's what I was used to and in an almost gravitational direction, I found myself going to it time and again.

There was lots of and it continued with every lesson I had to learn.

Like I had a luminescent stupid sign above my head, that said, "Come here, she likes chaos!"

I've made stupid decisions, went to stupid places and hurt in stupid ways.

I understand the girl I was today, but not then.

I didn't know much about anything really.

The repercussions of abuse do not stop when you leave the abusive environment. No, it reverberates throughout lifetimes and passes on a generational madness to each succession.

Taking a meandering tour back to my PC, I know I will carry on and bring back that girl from darkness...and no less will do.

All aboard the runaway train...time for some brakes.

*****************************Past

*After cleaning up the broken glass and busted furniture, we then sat for some Chai tea.***

I studied Mrs. D for signs of pain which she clearly had on her swollen, finger printed neck. I rose and took a tea towel from the drawer and some ice cubes from the freezer and placed them inside the towel. I passed it to her and she placed it gently on her neck.

"My husband has bad temper by God. Always mad about something," Mrs. D said.

"Will he hurt the kids?" I asked tentatively.

"Not our culture, not for boys. Husband has all rights over wife. He is allowed to lightly beat his wife."

"So he can do what he likes to you? I asked incredulously.

"He cannot kill me," she replied.

"That's a relief, I answered a bit sarcastically. "How long do you think he'll be gone?"

"Could be today, could be next week," she replied.

"Okay, well, I don't want to leave you alone. I should stay here just in case."

She looked at me and reluctantly agreed.

"I don't know what he will say when he comes back. If joo see, joo go down stairs. I talk to him."

"Ok, but I can't sit still if I hear more yelling and banging." I replied. She nodded in response.

The night crept away on stealthy feet, and the sun had rose after all. The dispersal of sparkling light caressing the dust in the air and managed to lift some of the gloom. Not long after, the two young boys woke.

Rubbing their eyes, they smiled shyly at me. One gave me the peace sign. I signed back and smiled.

What seemed like rapid-fire conversation happened between them. Their language always sounded so very fast to me.

Mrs. D looked at me. "Joo have breakfast?" Her voice still sounded sore and raspy.

I smiled, "Yes I will, thank you."

"No," she said..."I thank you." Then offered me a smile.

She made a simple meal of rice with egg, naan bread with a glass of milk. I got the impression that life in this manner was normal for them.

It seems the same with other indian families too.

I also learned something else. My rage is not solely for my own purposes.

It rears its ugly head quickly when others are abused as well.

Still I didn't know what was going to happen.

I settled for breakfast for the time being.

Plenty of time ahead for worry...I thought.

*****************************present

My heart's picked up again.

Remembering these times recalling my state of being, I can replay the memories one by one.

I was always alert accompanied by a regular smattering of worry followed by times of hard lessons one after the other.

Welcome to the hurricane that is me....

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This story is a chapter in an auto bio called Spectre book 2 in the series. Book one is called Ghost. Both can be found in my portfolio should you wish to read. One word of caution, some chapters are hard to digest. Reader discretion is advised.

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