Sad Poem and My Worst. Morning. Ever.

It All Happened Last Saturday

I had just come home from Boy Scout Camp Friday Evening. I had a County fair to go to on Saturday. I had entered my big yellow Labrador Retriever in the dog show despite being gone for a whole week. This was due to the fact that everyone that enters and participates in any way in that dog show knows me and I know everyone that enters and participates in any way in that dog show.

Sounds like a good morning will be coming right? Wrong. Here's why.

I had to get up around 6:30 A.M. to get ready and at the fair in time to help set up since my Mom and I are always involved in set up at the fair's dog shows, as well as the taking down. We usually drag my older brother and my father into it too. The problem is that I was staying up late (one day till 1:30 A.M.) all week at camp and getting up at 7:00 A.M..

I couldn't get to sleep that night due to the sudden elation of having access to my computer to game, program, PM on forums, read on forums, read guides for SC I had read 10 times, read guides for other games I had read 2-3 times, listen to music, read books, etc.

I finally got to sleep at... 2:30 A.M..

2:30!!! Considering that I should have slept around 10PM due to being tired overall, my feet hurting from walking all over camp each day, and that I had been on a schedule to sleep till 10PM that week, it wasn't a good idea to stay up that late.

6:20A.M. My parents know I don't usually wake up easily. (I did at camp though for some reason) They come into my room, and try to wake me up. I didn't know what was going on or for how long but I had been dreaming of casting spells to beat Kerrigan in a UMS (made up in my dream) on SC:BW.

8:00A.M. I finally wake up to my Dad grabbing me all over really hard and pulling me out of bed(still in my pajamas), pulling me all the way to the front passenger seat of his car without socks, shoes, etc. on me, not even a chance to use the bath room.

He shows me that he had gotten my pair of boots and socks under the front passenger seat, and a shirt to change into. I have to keep the same pants(thankfully I keep a real pair of shorts under my pajamas just in case of an emergency where I'll need to leave ASAP.

My Dad then starts cursing at me on the way there saying "YOU ARE A CUNT, A DIRTY WORTHLESS SLOB, A FUCKING GUTLESS, DICK HEADED LIER! YOU MANIPULATING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU ARE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP! AND YOU ARE MY FUCKING SLAVE! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! YOU ARE MY SLAVE YOU CUNT! YOU ARE A FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU ARE THE WORTHLESS SON I WISH I NEVER HAD! AND YOU DON'T GIVE A SINGLE BIT OF RESPECT TO ME, NONE WHATSOEVER!!!!"

I cried and cried, having no idea what in the world caused him to be this... evil. It was the only word I could use to describe it. He had never cursed at me before, let alone called me his slave. I had no idea what in the world it could be that caused him to be so awful. Had my Dad changed over this single week? What happened?!?

I thought back to when he picked me up at camp. I saw something different in his face. He had a maniacal look in his eyes and his expression. Back there I thought I was just seeing things. My Dad was nice. He wasn't the type of guy that would curse or beat his kids. He didn't believe in that, he had told me so many times. Until now.

I was driven home from the fair by my Mom. I asked her what had happened that morning while we were on our way and she told me. I had really scared her. I stood up on my bed when she went to wake me up and started swinging my blanket around like a cape. Then she got really frightened as I said awful, awful things she said. She started crying as she said that and just kept crying. She said after that.... she ran out of the room and told my Dad she was going on her own and for him to get me up. She said she couldn't handle it. She asked me not to ask any more, "I really have to concentrate on driving, I can't tell you details right now... maybe later" I could tell there would be no later. She had said enough for me to realize... I must have cursed at her. Possibly as much as my Dad cursed at me. Maybe even more.

I thought about it and said... "Mom, I think it may have been... well... I was having a dream where I was casting spells-"
"So those awful things you said were to try and cast some sort of spells on me?"
"...I was dreaming..."
"...."

Now I feel reeeeeeeeeeeally sad. Guilty, mad, etc. Huge mix of feelings. And did I imagine that look in my Dad's eyes? Or was it... was it real? And how in the world did I say such awful things in my sleep?!? Is that even normal?!? Only one thing is certain...

Worst. Morning. Ever

Note: I do not claim right to any of the pictures. I did not take them myself.