Beautiful Darkness by Maurice Mitchell (easy books to read in english TXT) 📕

remember sitting on the bed with the feeling of wondering what was next. I hated that feeling, I always thought she caught me doing something I thought I got away with it. I was relived to find out the last time the news was she got married, but not so relieved this time around. When she told me initially I thought it was another part of New York, I never heard of. I figured hey, we move every year, this is nothing new. Little did I know Colorado was on the other side of the Country. I wasn’t prepared for that, at all. Once I realized the severity of the move, I wanted a way out, and I was desperate. Everything I knew was in New York and I wasn’t quite ready to pack up leave. Unfortunately time waits for no one, and apparently parents don’t either. So my Mother let me make my own decision, and that’s when I decided to move to Virginia. I figured it was perfect, I was at a point in my life where I felt maybe it was time to really get to know my biological father. Not only that, I would remain on the east coast and a few steps closer to home. I told my Mother it was time, and it was a move I needed to happen. I decided to leave the one woman who loved me more then life itself and take on the challenge of living with a man I hardly knew. As time would tell, taking my talents to Virginia Beach ended up being the absolute worse decision of my life, and one I would regret forever

Chapter 10 (Stairway To Hell)

So there I was, new state, new family, new school. I felt like a new kid. It was supposed to be a new beginning, but ended up being more like an old ending. Everything was good at first, but then again most things are always good at first. Virginia was so much different then New York, nothing like what I knew back home. It was a beautiful place though, I remember it being the nicest place I’d ever seen. The streets were clean and the people were nice. There were trees everywhere and the air just felt cleaner. I missed my family tremendously, but something told me everything was going to be alright.

I adjusted to Virginia Beach pretty fast, a lot faster then I anticipated. It was much slower and extremely boring, but I felt it was an easier way to live. I left a negative environment and a lot negative people behind me, unfortunately I can’t say the same about my negative ways. Being a kid in a new school is always complicated, and being in a new state makes it a little harder. I didn’t seem to get along with any of the other kids and didn’t make much of an effort to change that fact. I remember my first week at school, it seemed like everything was so different. The school was much bigger and much nicer then the school I previously attended. It was a brand new school at the time, I believe it was only a few years old. The Gym was huge, the lunch room was clean and I even got my own locker. Those blue lockers seemed to have stretched for miles, I didn’t even know how to open one. I wasn’t used to that, not coming from Brooklyn. The hallway floors were shiny and all the class rooms were pretty well put together. I was extremely impressed with the school, I just wish I could of said the same for the students. I was comfortable staying to myself, and got used to doing so pretty early. In Virginia I became even more of an outcast then I was before, it was good that I was already used to that. It seemed most of the girls liked me because I was new and most of the guys hated me for the same reason. They weren’t to fond of boys from New York, so I didn’t necessarily get off to a good start. In Virginia I lost my love for a few things, people, basketball, and family. The first two started at school, the latter at home. As the year went on I started to met people but still felt the need to stay to myself. For the most part I hung out with my man Evan. That was my dude, we held each other down. Even was a short, slim fair-skinned kid from Newport News Virginia. He was a smart kid, I don’t think he played any sports at the time, he was more known for his flat top and quick tongue. He was popular though, it seemed like he knew everybody, I remember him introducing me to pretty much everybody I would end up meeting. In a way he replaced Lamar, I needed that. He probably never knew it, but he was a lifesaver. Just introducing to me everybody and showing me the ropes at school made my life so much easier. I was distracted and it took me away from the fact that I missed my family so much. Ev was able to help me deal with most of the problems that I came across at school, unfortunately he couldn’t help me with the problems I’d discover at home.

Living with my Father was different, but I had no idea just how different it would be. Looking back I'm still not sure what my fathers intentions were in having me there, but I'd come to find they weren't honorable. As time would past and situations where discipline was needed would arise, my Father would show his true colors as a person. See I'd never lived with my Father before, we just spent time together a few months out the year when the summer would come. Between him being at work and me being at camp, he never really had to be father. He may have had to be a dad, but he never really had to be a father. He left that job for the man my mother married, unfortunately I left that man behind. See when your a kid you look up to your dad, you want to be just like him. You want to walk like him, talk like him, do everything like him. Your dad is supposed to teach you everything he knows about life, and help you become a better man then he could ever be. Unfortunately for me, the biggest lesson my father taught me, was to never be anything like him.

Chapter 11 (Son Of A Bitch)

My Father made a hell of a lot of mistakes when I lived with him, and I forgive him for his ignorance. Though I survived and I'm able to see past what he did, the bottom line is what he did scared me, and affected my life in more ways then he could ever imagine. Just sitting here channeling my thoughts to put them down on this piece of paper draws me into a rage that the average human being probably couldn't understand. Some of the things my Father did to me I would even deem as inhumane, let alone unacceptable. A lot of the abuse I experienced has been removed from my memory forever. I seemed to have unconsciously blocked a lot of it out, but what I do remember, I remember vividly. Some of the discipline methods my father choose to use maybe described by some people as old school. As for the other methods, well I don’t know what you would consider those. I remember my father would come home from work and his eyes would be blood-shot red. He would reek of alcohol and what appeared to be another substance. I didn't realize that he had an abuse problem then, but its clear as day now. I'm not even sure that he was in his right mind when he did half of what he did to me, nonetheless it all sticks to me the same. For some of the most minor of offenses my Father would fight me like a man. I remember one time he asked me to rake the leaves in his back yard. I obliged, but understanding that the yard was the size of a football field, I asked how many bags? For that question alone he promised me an a** whooping I would never forget. He could be just as abusive verbally as he was physically. The more angry he got, the louder he got and the more curse words would form. I remember he would constantly tell me I was stupid, I wouldn't be sh*t, and I'd never go to college. I know right, yea he had a way with words, regular old Casanova. I don't know if he was ever serious when he told me to sleep with one eye open, but I did, just in case. I got sleep off of one eye many of nights, yea I came to find that it’s possible. Especially when someone you live with threatens to kill you on multiple occasions. That line still runs through my head as much as any, “I brought you’re a** in this world, and I’ll take your little a** out.” I probably heard that more then most kids hear I love you from their respective Father. That a** whopping that he promised me earlier turned out to be just as advertised, maybe even better. I remember him punching me so hard in my chest I flew over the bed. He would constantly kick me while I was on the floor curled up attempting to protect myself the best way I could. When he used a belt, I remember having so many whelps on my body I couldn’t sit or lay down. Those beatings would seem to last hours, at times I would even vomit once they finished. When I didn’t vomit I coughed up blood, in those times I thought I was dying. I remember he would throw or slam me into the nearest wall or counter, or slam my head into the floor. One time he threw me into his dinner table, and then beat me because I landed on his China, seriously. I remember being slapped in the head or in the face pretty often as well, that to me was almost his way of establishing his dominance. He had other ways of abusing me too, it wasn’t always necessarily him punching or kicking me. Sometime he’d throw things at me, like magazine racks or remotes or whatever was close. Other times he would make me eat soap until I would vomit from the taste. I remember spitting bubbles for hours, that taste seems to never leave your mouth. Conversely, I probably have the cleanest mouth on this side of the sun, thanks dad. Through all of the physical abuse the thing that seems to stick out the most to me are the days he would lock me out of the house. I remember he would lock me out for hours at a time during the winter. I could never forget the night he made me sleep outside in the backyard. I remember it was raining and I was laying on two garbage bags with one draped over me. I remember laying there thinking there’s no way he could actually leave me laying out here in the rain, he has to have a heart somewhere in his body…..He never came. I think that night I laid there in the rain was the last night I cried. I became a cold individual and decided that he wouldn’t be able to hurt me any longer. So as he continued to choke me, punch me, and kick me, I would take it. I would take it so long as he would dish it, and