Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
“Son, men don’t cry. You’re a man and men are strong; they’re powerful and they can do whatever the fuck they please. You will grow up to be just like me. Just like your father… that I can promise you.”
I didn’t want to grow up and be like him. I didn’t want to be anything like the man kneeling before me. He was malicious and evil. I hated him and in that moment, at nine years old, I learned the feeling of the word and never once looked at him again with love or adoration.
He was nothing to me, only the man that hurt my mom, and made her cry.
“Turn around and point the gun at your mother.”
I closed my eyes, praying that it would all go away. I silently prayed to God that he wouldn’t make me do this. That he would stop time or that this was just a bad dream. That it wasn’t real. But when I turned to face my mother and he ordered me to open my eyes and point the gun at her heart, I learned that there was no God, or that he didn’t listen or care about me and my family.
He didn’t exist in our home… there was only hell because if He had existed, I would have never had to pull the trigger.
“When you aim a gun at someone,” he whispered in my ear from behind me, loud enough for her to hear, “you aim to kill. You aim at the heart or you aim at the head, nowhere else,” he paused to let his words sink in, and my mom’s face would forever haunt my dreams. She didn’t look sad or terrified… nothing of what I imagined. She looked relieved; like I was about to take her away from somewhere she didn’t want to be. As if I were setting her free. Letting her go.
I didn’t want her to leave… what would happen to us if she were gone?
“No, Dad!” I screamed not caring about the repercussions. “Please don’t make me do this, please, Dad, please,” I mercifully begged.
“DO. IT!” he shouted louder.
My crying and his screams must have been loud because Lauren came out in her Disney pajamas, wiping away sleep from her eyes and my mother’s face froze. I heard Alexis, my baby sister, who had just turned one, screaming so loud from her crib and it was a piercing sound that made me feel like my ears were bleeding.
“Please, Rick, please don’t do this… have mercy… God… please don’t do this…” she pleaded, coming out of the daze she was in seconds before.
He roughly grabbed my hand and pointed it for me. “Pull the fucking trigger,” he threatened.
“Daddy!” Lauren screamed, running over to my mom and holding onto her legs.
“Rick! Stop this… please, Jesus Christ, you’re scaring the kids!”
“I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to,” I repeated over and over again.
“Pull the fucking trigger, Devon. I swear if you don’t do it I’ll hurt your sister; Lauren will pay for your mistakes. Now be a man and pull the trigger.”
It was my baby sister or my mom…
I shook my head, closed my eyes, and begged for forgiveness. God save my soul…
Click, I heard.
His laughing is what made me open my eyes, his head was rolling all around from laughing so hard and Mom was holding onto Lauren so tight. I had never seen her so frightened and relieved at the same time.
I was crying, petrified, and felt like I was going to hell. Somehow, I didn’t think it mattered anymore… because I knew from that day forward; I would be living in it every day. Nothing was ever going to be the same.
For any of us.
“I’m sorry, Momma, I’m so sorry,” I openly bawled, barely containing my shaking body and voice.
And the next thing I knew, he backhanded me across the face so hard that I flew across the room. I hit the floor with thud and immediately hurt all over.
“You little shit, not only do you pull the trigger you fucking apologize after you do? What kind of fucking man are you?”
My head was throbbing and the room was spinning. It was the first time he had ever hit me and I knew it wouldn’t be the last.
It was just the beginning.
I felt my mom’s arms around me and I took in her comfort, her warmth, and her love. I soaked it up like it was the last thing that I would do, while I cried in her lap apologizing repeatedly.
“It’s otay, Devon, Momma loves you, she mates it otay, don’t cry, I sorry,” Lauren soothed.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise,” Mom proclaimed, rocking me back and forth, holding onto me so tightly that I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to hide me, to take away the pain and loss I felt for my life.