January 27th, Year of Taurus

8:18 a.m. I have yet to sleep. It has become a habit to look at the time, to find numbers to be of the utmost importance. Everything must add up to something, or it removes from it completely. It is significant, or of no value.

The sky is grey and that is useless to me. Mulligan the cat, loyal to Hermes, personal accountant to Beelzebub, sits at my feet. The fur thing is obedient as always. I feel unworthy of anyone’s affection, including his. Every day, I fight off a nervous breakdown. I am victorious now, but fatigued. Tomorrow does not look promising. If the outcome is much the same then, if I succeed in temporarily conquering a miswired brain, it means nothing when this is a constant.
It was the thunder that triggered the terror this time. A terror so large, it sat on my brain and nearly crushed it.

I used to think I was afraid of loud noises, because I vividly remember the earthquake that nearly shook my childhood home down. The sounds of generators exploding woke me up, alerting me to the situation. But, one day, while looking at a scar on my mother’s face that had always just been there, I asked how she got it. “I fell,” she replied. It was that lie, that brought back repressed images of my father pointing a gun at my mother.  The noise produced by the earth shaking violently, sounded so much like my father pulling the trigger.

Obviously, she survived, no thanks to my father, who ran when he thought she was dead. He did have the decency to call one of his brother’s, asking him to dial for an ambulance, and fabricate a story that would protect him. My uncle obeyed, telling the dispatcher that my mother had tried to take her own life.

The allegiance that exists between family members can be like a disease, like a plague.

I was three when this occurred. I remembered so little, and yet too much. All I knew, was that I had a series of images that haunted me, but were too gruesome to belong in the real world.
Years later, I would ask my mother if the scar came from a bullet. I was met with a very bored ’yes.’

My father was born a monster.

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January 27th, Year of Taurus

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