Chapter 21 Book 2

Chapter 21

Facing The Monsters

Part 1

It would be a lie if I said I wasn't absolutely terrified when the day came to face my parents. It didn't take long to figure out it was merely another trick or ploy to give them the opportunity to continue where they left off and failed. I knew I was going to be in trouble when my caseworker had taken the liberty to fill my prescription for my sleeping tonic and tranquilizer. But what they didn't know was that the prescription didn't work as it should, but just enough to make me stoned and druggy, nor the fact that Dad and Mom hadn't yet given the State the new dosage for either of them or the fact that I have a new upgrade of my special watch.

The "Ding Bat" may have told Mom and Dad that I would be returned to him on Friday at one o'clock What he told my parents was Monday at three-thirty, considering I hadn't been home in over a year and school was out. It was all an act when my mother tried to hug me only to have me back away, so neither of them could touch me. I quickly stated to the "Ding Bat" that the Rothwells would not tolerate this extended visit.

He simply said. "That the Rothwells needed to learn who's actually in charge when it comes to the State and Family Court, what they will tolerate not the other way around."

My parents grinned from ear to ear, my mother said. "They wish other caseworkers felt like that, if they did, we wouldn't have half the problems raising our boys."

The" Ding Bat" Stated that the world and laws are changing. Some of them are overprotective when it comes to foster parents and their own parents when dealing with a child that is overly spoiled and needs a firmer hand when it comes to discipline, saying good day leaving his card before driving off.

I was roughly escorted to my cell, which wasn't anything new as my parents locked me in with Aaron. I could see and smell right away that room had been redone and Aaron was beaten down to a whipped dog, barely willing enough to greet me until he heard the door lock. Even though he was fairly clean and dressed in decent clothes instead of rags. He was timid like a frightened rabbit.

There were no bars on the windows, but they were shatterproof and sealed shut. He flinched when I hugged him, nearly screaming, both in fear and in pain. I was almost afraid to look, but I needed to know even though I feared the worst. He let me lift his shirt, seeing him covered in bruises and burns from the cattle prod. I took it off the rest of the way and had him turn around so I could get a better look.

He told me that our parents are using the bike and fighting excuses when people ask. That he was and could be accident prone and always tripping over something or falling down the stairs, which angered me as I put back on his shirt so I couldn't see the injuries even though they were ingrained in my head. I nearly pushed the button, but Dad made it clear only to do it if my life was in danger. Being locked up in a room didn't count as being in a life and death situation and so far, they haven't marked me yet.

It was nearly four hours before they gave me and Aaron a bathroom break before they started in on us. Stating the house hadn't been cleaned to pristine condition since the last time I had done it. That I should teach my worthless brother how it's done. Giving me two hours to clean the bathroom and do the laundry instead of three considering I had help.

Again I wanted to push the button as I watched them force Aaron onto the floor when he didn't move fast enough. My father would kick him in the stomach and my mother would use the cattle prod, yelling that we now had an hour and a half. Aaron caught his breath wiping the tears from his eyes. I asked him if he had told Grandma or anyone about this. He said he tried to, but grandma wasn't allowed to even come near the house, or they would put her in jail, everyone else believed the lies as they had done with me. I was furious, but again this was nothing new and I still wasn't enough to fight back or push the button.

I didn't trust my parents when it came to mealtime after being drugged and kidnapped. I was used to missing a meal or two and prayed that Dad would keep his word when he realized I wasn't coming home tomorrow and would be on that doorstep to rescue me. But what I didn't count on was my parents taking us all out to eat to celebrate my happy return. Happy for them, but not for me, we didn't go far just to Payson to a restaurant that was new in town, called the Red Rooster. It was the best place to get steak and cheese sandwiches on a homemade bun. To this day I don't know why they went out of business. It was the food here I could trust because wasn't fixed nor touched by my parent's hands.

My sisters hadn't said two words to either of us as if we didn't exist in their eyes. Talking about how bad we smelled and how degrading it was to sit here with filthy dumb animals. I smiled said. "If you really want to see what a dumb animal looks like, you should look in the mirror."

My mother's eyes popped, and my father reached out to grab me only to be stopped by my mother noticing two policemen taking seats close enough to hear our conversation. My father growled and sat down and chewed his sandwich like a cow. I, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief knowing the fact they were here for me. I nodded as one of them pointed to his watch and gave my parents a nod as two more came in and took seats behind us.

I shook my head and gave the code sign with my fingers, to everyone else including my parents it was a sign of peace and a quick salute stating thanks and I was safe at the moment. My parents growled telling me to eat and stop messing around. They became nervous when another police car followed us home only to keep going when we turned into the trailer park. I watched my parents sigh with relief when we made it back inside the house and quickly bolted the door.

My mother asked my father if he thought we were being watched. He stated it was merely a coincidence that's all, but my mother made him to take a walk with the girls as if he was just going to the playground and to be certain, having him take the long way around. We were ordered to our room telling us to get ready for bed, even though it was only six thirty. Aaron didn't waste time quickly undressed right there in the kitchen folding his clothes neatly on the table and setting his shoes and socks on top of them. That In self, told me something had changed considering my parents considered that to be immodest and immoral unless they were doing it to embarrass us.

My mother stared at me tapping her foot, but I simply turned and followed Aaron. Only to be brought back forcibly and told me she wasn't about to tolerate any more of my attitude. I complied and did the same thing earning a slap of across the face for being smart. Again I didn't push the button considering I have had worse from Mom and Dad and wasn't hard enough to leave a bruise. It just stung that's all, something I could live with and had done on several occasions.

I could feel my parents' eyes on me as they noticed how tan I was, hearing my father growl filthy immoral bastards. If only he knew more about my carefree lifestyle he would blush more. To say I was proud of the fact that I embarrassed my parents and sisters would certainly be true, as well as the fact I had burned the Eskimo suit long ago. It made me smile inside thinking about how many times me and my brothers had run naked through the house and the field letting the sun tickle every part of our skin,

My mother came in to give me my tonic and made me drink the foul stuff straight without mixing it in anything but water. When she was satisfied, she locked the door stating tomorrow was a big day for both of us. Like I said before, the tonic doesn't always work except to make me groggy especially with my senses being on high alert because of the danger I was in.

When they checked on me, I pretended I was out cold, hearing my mother state that this certainly made things easier. Just to be sure she jabbed me with the cattle prod. It took everything inside me not to show that it hurt me. She did it three times, but got no response, mostly because of the tonic and mostly because I chose not to respond. I had felt the worst pain over the last year and a half, this didn't even compare.

I could feel Aaron shaking me awake. I wanted to tell him that I was ok, but my parents hadn't left the room. He yelled that they killed me and began to cry. My mother reached out and slapped his face placing his hand on my chest so he could feel and see me breathing. "Now shut up and go to sleep or next time I will." Slamming the door and bolting it locked. I rolled over groaning whispering that I was alright. Aaron hugged me crying into my shoulders falling asleep in my arms.

Pain is a funny thing when you have been beaten enough you don't feel it as much and the fact there are bigger monsters to face in the world like Mr. and Mrs. Rothwell. I had learned over the last year and a half how to become numb and show no emotion. How to prevent a small panic attack with a simple breathing technique when faced with a monster, I knew the monsters in the house, and I knew how to protect myself from them. I also had no real love for any of them. Personally, I was more scared of Dad than my own parents, to me, he will always be the bigger monster.

After a quick breakfast of cold cereal, it was back to degrading chores. I watched the clock as it reached eleven o'clock counting the minutes as it ticked closer to the time, I knew would set the monster loose. My father stated that the coast was still clear, not one sight of the cops. Not even unmarked police cars were near us. It was a new routine for him to check every half hour.

I kept my head down and continued scrubbing the kitchen floor. I felt fortunate that they had allowed both of me and Aaron to fully dress unlike Dad and Mom when it came to punishment. Mostly I think it was because they were on high alert in case a surprise inspection took place, which was known to happen by the DDS ever since they attacked me during last Thanksgiving.

It was almost noon before anything happened. My mother opened a can of soup and made grilled cheese, even though it was burnt on both sides. I declined it pushing both away and waited to be excused or wait for Aaron to drop to the floor like last time. My father tried shoving it down my throat, but I spit it out onto the floor. Earning a slap across the face and in response, I tip my bowl onto the floor making a mess. Aaron began to cry and shake with terror. Something I would have done if I hadn't learned not to thanks to Dad. I was ordered to clean it up and go straight to my room. I didn't waste time mopping it up and that's where I made my mistake.

I barely felt the pin poke on the back of my neck from the tranquilizer. Within seconds I was lying on the floor out cold covered in soup and mashed-up bread. I felt everything they did to me making sure that I was out, and partly I was like I said they had the weaker version, and I knew that wouldn't be long before I would be awake enough to defend myself.

I could hear just enough of what was said and what was going on around me, even though the voices sounded underwater. My mother stated they didn't have much time in case someone came knocking on the door looking for me. Even though I couldn't move or get my body to wake, I was awake enough to know they were dragging me to the car and quickly dumping me on the back seat.

By the time we had reached the destination, I was nearly awake, but not enough to move my arms or my fingers to press the button. I could barely lift my eyelids as I tried shifting my head to see where I was, and it wasn't the church house. Instead, it was a house that had been boarded up, with empty fields of weeds on either side of it. The houses weren't as far apart as the Rothwells, but neither were they close. I knew if they got me inside it was over, so I kept my wits about me doing my best to keep me from reaching storm class panic attack. I slowly took deep breaths saying barely the breath of a whisper my phrases to keep me in this reality. I prayed that Dad and help would come quickly.

My mother growled stating that I was awake, hearing and seeing me moving. She was complaining to my father that the sedative didn't last as long as it was intended. According to my caseworker, I should have been stone cold for at least another hour. My father reached over to jab me again, but I was ready for him, and quickly rolled out of the way causing my mother to stop the car in front of the house, that they intended to kill me in.

But as big as she was, she was confined by the steering wheel, which made it almost impossible to turn around to help my father. Instead, she opened the door and was about to hold me down, but I had already slipped out the other door, Seeing my father half between both seats and almost landing on his head trying to grab me, and my mother lying flat across the seat bumping heads. Cursing the day I was born. I had learned a lot about bullies, if you anger them enough, they become stupid with rage. That was my advantage in using their anger against them.

Even though I was still groggy drunk with the sedative, as I waited for it to wear off. I was running drunk, tripping over my feet and into the field next to the house with my parents right behind me. I was pushing the button frantically and too busy to notice the log behind me as I fell over into a ditch half full of water. My father grabbed me and tried to hold me down so he could drown me, but that's when my instincts and fear brought everything to a stop. Plus the antidrug was coursing through my veins adding an additional adrenaline kick. I gripped his arm and twisted while I rolled landing him on his back with me on top of him only to be thrown off by my mother.

I quickly came to my feet still woozy, but stood and growled like the tiger that was in me. I was soaking wet. Something we hadn't planned on, neither being drugged and not knowing what the anti-drug would do, but it was also amazing what fear could do. They each lunged for me only to meet my foot as it punched my mother in the stomach knocking the wind out of her. My father sidestepped me and her and quickly brought me to the ground and grabbed me, trying to stay on top of me. Even though my clothes were wet I managed to crawl out from underneath him. Leaving my shirt behind, I didn't waste time slipping off my wet shoes considering I didn't tie the laces tight in case something like this happened.

I also I didn't put on my socks when I stepped into my shoes this morning. I wanted to give myself any advantage I could get if it came to a fight to defend myself. It was like the bell rang in my head announcing the round to begin.

I yelled at them to give me what they got, even though I was terrified and close to a panic attack. I growled several times to remind myself that I was a Tiger, and this was my fight. My mother grabbed me from behind trying to tie my hands, but I was ready and twisted to face her and slipped my hands through the rope before she could tie the knot tight, seeing her surprised face, when I tossed the rope further into the field.

My father tried to grab me only to earn a kick in the ribs. Feeling his hands on my pants gripping tightly by my pockets, hoping to bring me down. I smiled and twisted free like it was a dance, quickly undid them, letting him take them off for me. My mother launched herself at me and tried to tackle me to the ground, while my pants were around my ankles. I rolled on my back and kicked and growled. Almost laughed as she kept punching me, trying to get me to hold still to tie me with the second rope.

When I was free, I was naked, and I didn't care. I stood in the sunshine letting the sun kiss my bare skin. All those laps around the field in the raw, and all those times I had been in the hot box. All those times Dad and Mom humiliated me. Meant nothing now, I could stand in front of a crowd full of people and not care.

My parents were furious, while I growled "Come get some," feeling the drug leaving my system at last. I ready myself as they charged for me drawing a large circle around me in the dirt with my feet, which said I dare you to cross this line. My father threw my mother a switchblade. I eyed the knife was a knife and I had the scars to prove it. I watched as my father took off his belt and my mother got closer. I kicked the blade out of her hand letting it fall near me in the dirt tip side down. With my right hand palm side up I broke her nose when she tried to pick it up. It stunned her watching all the blood run down her front and into her mouth.

She screamed in pain and was very angry, even more, angry than I thought was possible. Like I said I had learned that being angry can make you stupid and it would be her weakness and was also my advantage. She watched me twist around like a high-strung ballerina. Dad taught me a neat trick when I needed my hands to fight. Even though it took me a month to practice it, and earned several cuts, the trick paid itself off today. I gripped my toes and picked up the knife and let it fly into my right hand. Earning a slice between my toes and fingers because it was so small compared to a kitchen knife or one made of wood or having dull edges, the knife was mine and became one of my tiger claws.

At the corner of my eye, I watched and listened, hearing my father's belt get closer. I counted each swing, each breath he took, timing my movements until the right time to step in and take the advantage. The pain was nothing but an illusion something I needed to ignore to win this battle.

I let the buckle strike me while I raised my arm on the second strike. I could feel the warm blood trickle down my chest, twisting just enough to feel the worn leather wrap tightly around my arm. The sharp buckle digging deep into my skin, I ignored the pain. Instead, I drew my father closer instead of running and hiding, letting him pull it and me with it.

I slid enough with my feet to create a half corkscrew sit spin standing on my left leg using my back and arms to equalize the balance. Giving a swivel kick to his ribs with a quick double tap kick with my right foot. Dropping it and turned it into a full sit spin, swiping my left leg and kicking. With a swift powerful practice movement watching him crumple to the ground. Letting me rotate quickly upwards as if I were a skater on ice, using the soft dirt as my ice. He pulled the belt and me towards the ground, but I twisted into half cartwheel giving me the space I needed.

I took the knife and sliced the belt in half, watching his eyes pop and fall to the ground as it kicked back due to the release of the tension. His surprised look was worth a thousand words. Realizing I had been trained by several professionals and my body was indeed a weapon. Strong, quick, and flexible, compared to the first time I had defended myself years ago before I had met the Downing's.

It was my mother's turn to see her come back with the cattle prod from the car, she was beyond furious and covered in blood. I tapped the knife against my bare thigh and waited hearing the sirens in the distance. Realizing I was basically unmarked except for a few cuts and a couple of bruises. I growled taking the knife and ran it down both my arms giving me two stripes and three more across my chest and stomach, adding two more down the sides of my legs to give me seven stripes in total.

My parents were horrified as they watched the blood dripping down my naked skin thinking I had totally gone insane. It wasn't deep and I doubted I would need more than a few stitches. I wanted to prove to myself and them that the knife did not scare me. I knew the cops were getting closer, but this was my fight and I had been saving my best for last.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my father getting closer. I growled and roared like a tiger, not a scream, but the actual roar that came from deep inside. I jumped into the air swiveling enough to give a roundhouse kick to the jaw and turned it into a half scissor kick to the jaw breaking two upper teeth. Returning my leg to the ground and spun into half corkscrew at the waist. With a powerful kick with my right foot to the stomach. Bringing it down to pivot it on my left foot kicked him in him in the groin in one fluid motion.

That had only come with lots of practice, ending it with a quick half twirl, back-flip swing both feet to the jaw busting his nose and breaking another tooth. Another trick that took me months to learn and nearly busted my leg and fell on it the wrong way several times until I got it right. I had spent a lot of time learning simple gymnastics' to improve my speed and coordination. My legs, feet, and arms were lethal weapons, after spending all that time lifting weights and playing sports.

With a simple corkscrew flip, I began a half-bend scissor kick. I let my legs and arms flow fluidly using the gravitated motion to build momentum with both my feet landing right in the middle of my mother's chest. Knocking all the breath out of her lungs, as she hit the ground hard with a loud "uff," sliding on her butt a few feet away from me. I ended it with a double jab with my right foot against both sides of her jaw, knocking out two of her front teeth by the time the police and Dad stopped at my location. I was circling with a low turntable sit spin swiping my father's legs like bowling pins, knocking my father to the ground.

I roared loud enough to hear me across town. I smiled when everyone saw me standing completely naked covered in blood from head to toe, some of it mine and some of it theirs. My parents groaned trying to get up only to fall down, I growled again daring them to even think about it, and waited for Dad to come to get me.

He looked at my father and picked him by his shirt and gave him a hard right cross causing him to spit out two more teeth besides the three I had knocked out moments ago. No one said a word regarding it. I said to my dazed mother. "I warned you, but you didn't listen. Touch him or me again you will think this was a dream. My visits are now terminated."

I was offered a blanket to cover up, but I declined it and walked back to the cars with Dad's arms around my shoulders, and took a seat while I waited for the paramedics to look us over. Taking several breaths to calm me down and closed my eyes and began to cry, realizing for the first time that I was no longer afraid of my parents. I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders. I earned my Tiger stripes that day as I watched my parents being hauled off on a stretcher. Dad wrapped the blanket around my waist, and we drove to my parent's house to wait for my grandmother and DDS and Social Services to come to take care of my siblings.

Grandma and my Aunts Marry and Lizzy took one look at me covered in blood and bandages. I smiled and said. "It looks worse than actually is. You should have seen the other guy." Grandma wasn't satisfied until she could look at all of me counting seven red stripes that would need stitches. Aaron leaped into my arms clinging to me crying thinking they had killed me I said. "I am the Tiger with seven stripes, and I roar because I am fearless."

Aaron and my aunts had no idea what that meant. I was good with that. I had left all my clothes back in the field considering it was only supposed to be an overnighter it wasn't worth packing an overnight bag. Dad asked me if wanted to go back to get them. I shook my head and said, "Tigers don't need them."