#xni

I was about sixteen for this story, maybe fifteen, but it is something I will never forget. He wakes me up one day, its during the summer so it honestly might have been when I was fifteen. No, it would have been sixteen because Undertale came out that year and I watched an absurd amount of comic dubs at my grandparents house, where we were staying at the time.

I remember putting on the Tem Shop glitch hop while packing my things to move to the house I’m in as I write this. I was in to Undertale, but I didn’t have my phone yet.

I was sixteen, my father woke me up one summer day and took me with him to work, he laminates countertops for a living and has been doing so for the last thirty years. This day, he had some to put on in West Ashley. A fair drive from where we were staying.  He decides that on this day in particular that he was going to be upfront about a couple things.

So that was the day of my sex talk. Bear in mind, this man never gave me a puberty talk, and I was sixteen when he decided that a sex talk was appropriate to have. The entire thing is two sentences long.

“You probably watch porn, you’re set. If you ever want me to buy you some condoms, let me know.”

That is verbatim the entire thing. I was quiet because what do you say to respond to that? Hell if I knew. He just kinda kept talking as if nothing was wrong, and then he points to the lone tattoo on his arm and asks me if I know who that is.

I can’t even read the damn thing its so faded. So I guess a past lover or his tattoo artist because I don’t have a damn clue and he is so open about the fact that he has “been around the block” in his younger days I figured it made sense. Nope.

It’s the name of my older half sister. He acted like there was nothing wrong with that. He just kinda said it. Again, I’m silent because how the actual fuck do you respond to that? How do you respond to finding out that you have an older sister that you never have, and likely never will, meet? It was just us in the car recently and he brought that up again and I insinuated by tone alone that “yo thats kinda fucked up” and he flat out said I never will because of the mother.

So that bombshell was dropped on me that day but he wasn’t done yet. We weren’t even passed my school and he drops a third bomb on my world that honestly didn’t surprise me that much.

He told me he had a criminal record. He spent three years in jail seven years before I was born, he was thrown in around the time my older sister was born. He told me he had done every drug, aside from the ones that required use of a needle, under the sun. He had gotten involved in gangs and if I remember correctly was involved in a murder. He got three years and according to him, he got lucky that it wasn’t life.

All of this like it’s no big deal. He tells me that he dropped out of ninth grade after a little over a week and still is blasé about the whole thing.

And then he says this one line.

“Don’t you dare say a word of this to anyone.”

That bastard has no idea I tell pretty much everyone I meet online because when I vent its always about him. There isn’t a soul I would never tell about this because everyone should know that this man has three kids, two of which have to deal with him.

He told me all of that because he didn’t want me finding out from someone else.. Only that reason. Not because he felt it was time I knew, but because he didn’t want someone else to beat him to the punch.

Is it better to be alive and constantly miserable? Or dead and know peace?

If I fail a class this semester, there is an extremely high likelihood that i will be pulled out of college for financial reasons. If that happens I've been told I will have no choices, my life will be ultimately destroyed. The only job I'd be able to get is a minimum wage, soul crushing mindless existence. I'd never be able to afford a second chance at college. I'd never be able to survive on minimum wage, I'd have to get two jobs and even then I'd barely make ends meet.

And that's if I was able to get a second job. I'd never know love because I'd be too busy trying just to survive and after that too tired to function. 2 full time jobs is not exactly free to have feelings like love. And with who I am, finding someone would be a damn miracle and god has already proven he shall have no mercy on me.

And the gods know I'd never have a lucky break with writing or art, if I even had the time or energy to put into either of them.

Every check just going to not being dead for another week, stuck in a job or if I'm lucky, 2, that I hate, barely making ends meet, all because when I was 19 I got cocky and ended up failing Precal or was forgetful and failed English because if it.

To be able to say, "I was young, dumb, sure of myself, and because of it I've amounted to nothing, never known love, was never able to have a family, and lived a fate comparable to hell on earth."

I've been religiously told this for the last 6 months by my parents. And 6 months is lowballing it.

My biggest fear is dying alone. My second biggest fear to be forgotten. If I fail both are going to happen. I'm going to die alone in a house that is barely holding together without a soul to remember me.

I'll be forgotten within a week of my death, if not, a month at most. Nothing I've ever done will have mattered, ultimately I was just a waste of the universes time, even if I did make a couple peoples days just a little bit brighter.

Is it better to live and be miserable with no hope, or to die and be done with it?

At this point it's basically pass or die. A 70 on my math final to pass and have to retake because of how it is with my major, an 85 on it to never take that class again, and with English I've done what I can and at this point all I can do is hope.

And don't any of you dare call me selfish for this. To call suicidal people selfish is selfish itself. You're only concerned about the impact that persons death would have on you or their family, worry about the person who wants to kill themselves because they are in pain or see no other option.

And never call me selfish. I've made every choice for somebody else. Choice in college was because if years of "if you go to clemson you'll make your grandfather proud." And he's the actual kindest person I've ever met of course I dont want to let him down, I couldn't get there on my highschool GPA or ACTs so I found some backass method to get there. CSU has an applied math program that does 4 years there, 2 years at Clemson and you get two degrees for the 6 year period.

My father was all for that for the reason of being able to rub it in my aunts and uncles faces.

This is the same man that punched a brick wall hard enough to let out a blood curdling scream, make the house shake from the punch, and instill the fear of death in a child because a 12 year old didnt do his English homework. Why that 12 year old didnt do their homework? Just didnt want to, so over time did less and less of it.

Which is a legitimately normal thing by the way, 6th graders dont always want to do their homework and of course they are going to lie about it, dont act like his responce was in any way justifiable.

The man to this day still threatens to pin me to a wall and beat the shit out of me if I lie to him again, which wouldnt be as much of an issue if he didn't terrify me to the point of never telling him anything ever again out of fear for my life.

My choice of major was because of him. I wanted to be a doctor for a while but then my mom spent a collective 5 years dying in the hospital, so that dream died. No fault to her she couldn't control it. I then wanted to be a psychiatrist, therapist, that deal. Made the mistake of mentioning it around dad and got told promptly "it's not a real job." 10 year old me gave up on that real quick.

Then it went lawyer for a while because I figured a good paying job will be acceptable, hes always on about money anyways. After months upon like a year or something of "oh it's a lot of school and it's really hard and are you sure about it?" That dream too, was killed.

So the next thing I said was computers. Nothing more, nothing less, and it was finally acceptable. It was the most predicatable answer out of me and the first one to really be approved of. So for years i was content not having my dreams put down, then came college and I put my dreams down for computer engineering, on the track to clemson.

I then changed my major to computer science and over time put some thought into my actual interests.

Astronomy, the language of the stars. Physics, the language of the universe. Linguistics, the study of language. Writing, where you can be a god of your own little world. Geology, because rocks are just cool yo. Intetior Design, every time dad drags me to work with him I sit around and mentally start designing each room. And at the bottom of the list, Computer Science.

And the final mistake made in this whole college thing, I applied to only 1 college and to 0 scholarships. The scholarships I got are state ones, and I was told to keep a 3.0 GPA, which if you've ever seen one of my report cards you know how bad of an idea relying on that is. You have to have no idea what any of my report cards have ever looked like to think for a minute that trusting I will keep a B average for 6 years with no problems at all is even slightly a good idea.

So when my grades came in first semester, the night of December 13 I was legitimately shaking in fear for my life. December 23 when my parents found my grades out they gave me a 2~3 hour scream and then since then all my tech, aside from my phone and laptop, has been sitting in a tote box in my closet.

April they see my grades again and since then I havent been allowed to even have my door closed, and was strongly told that if I'm caught reading anything that isnt for school they'd burn it.

I could have probably avoided half of this if I was just a little more selfish, but I made every choice for someone else. If I was just a little more selfish I would be in a college half the price of CSU in a major that wouldnt be my last choice. Were I just a little more self centered, I wouldn't fear my father killing me over my grades.

Maybe I'm so destructively selfless because every moment that was supposed to have been about me quickly became about someone else. High school graduation after the fact during the pictures I got pushed to the side so my cousins could have a picture of just them, when there literally were three other walls and outside that they could have done that. Have you ever taken a picture outside at night? It's got a beautiful magic about it, and the lights were on dont even try to say "oh it's too dark", also cameras tend to have a flash so that's no excuse to push ME out of the way on MY graduation day. Kinda a big deal to me because when you look at my extended family I am among the few that have graduated high school, like half of them haven't even done that.

My graduation party the next day, I was given my gifts and then ignored most of the rest of the time. I was there for about 6~7 hours, and relevant for about 15 minutes. My college acceptance letter was opened and read by my parents before I even woke up. In fact, they woke me up by yelling at me from the kitchen to get in there. I walk in there, they're at the table smiling like idiots that just won the Nobel prize, and they hand me an open letter and tell me to read.

And my birthdays result in me being relevant for ten minutes of the hour at the pizza hut, and most of that is being asked about school and grades. The rest of the time is my parents and grandparents bitching about my drug addict unfit parent cousins. Like, my birthday is supposed to be about me, not them. And I am more than just school and grades, you would not believe how long it took me to realize that.

Dinner was pretty bland as usual. Not like his cooking really changes, it was grilled chicken that day. With the standard potatoes and this time green beans. It wasn’t a good day, nor a bad one. It was just kind of a day, uneventful for the most part. I was quiet at dinner, as usual, and somehow the topic of actors shows up. The conversation heads towards the Smith family, Jaden and Willow Smith specifically, to which my parents are talking about how they'd be embarrassed to have either of them as their kids.

Eventually, still sitting there quietly minding my own business, my dad looks at me and tells me to my face that if I ever want to wear makeup, where a dress or skirt, or anything feminine he was going to kick me out of his house. Followed by saying it'd be an embarrassment to the family and that no son of his would dress like that. He then goes back to eating dinner as if nothing was said.

I started college, and they had one thing they expected of me. Keep a 3.0 GPA. Sounds reasonable enough if you have never once seen my report cards. If you have, you know I am not a simply 3.0 student. I’m pretty average.

In my high school senior class, I was the average. Of the nine person class, four had better grades than me, four had worse. I was the middle, the mediocre one. I managed to graduate and right then and there I felt a weight off my shoulders because I was finally able to breathe a little bit. Then college acceptance happens and no scholarships get applied to because the state ones cover everything, and all I have to do is keep a 3.0 GPA for 6 years.

At the time I was in a major that would have me in six years of school, the applied math dual degree program. I couldn’t keep it for a semester, I failed two classes, math and english. English because I kept forgetting when papers were due and then forgot they even happened, which happens in classes that don’t meet often. Math was because I got cocky and thought “I got this” when I really didn’t.

Being cocky causes me to fail things, I get over confident easily. That december, they found out I failed and proceeded to take pretty much everything. Mostly it was just put all my tech aside from my laptop and phone in a tote box that hasn’t left my closet since, and forced me to do all schoolwork at the kitchen table..

They didn’t learn the first time that I get cocky and think I’m fine when in reality I’ve forgotten something that’s hurting my grade severely, they didn’t learn the second, third, fourth, fifth, etc times it happened either. They never learned how I worked, they still haven’t figured it out. I’m forgetful and can get cocky. So the next semester, in April, they go in and check my grades at the office and they don’t like what they see.

So they increased the punishment. They forced my phone and laptop to charge in the living room at all times they aren’t with me at school, they took away my ability to close my door during the day unless I’m changing or sleeping, they threatened that if I’m caught reading anything that isn’t for school they’d burn it, and forced me to put in 4 hours of studying every school day. If I wanted to watch tv it was with a parent or not at all.

About a week after this got put into effect I got my ipad out of the tote box in my closet and have been sneaking on it ever since. 9 months of not getting caught, and still going.

Story time, my father takes my academic life extremely seriously. In fact, it's basically the only thing he cares about when it comes to me. Back in sixth grade, I was a relatively normal kid. I was the quiet nerdy one no one had any beef with, ever. Sure I was emotionally volatile but I had my reasons to be that way.

Anyways, part of being a normal sixth grader is not wanting to do your homework, no one likes the stuff. With some people it's just one class, with others its the whole set. Regardless, its normal for kids to go through a period of not wanting to do their homework.

This was me in English.

Third quarter, January to March give or take, I just kinda stopped doing my English homework. Over time the amount of it I’d bring home would be less and less., and it wasn’t an active decision. It was a passive thing that just kinda happened over the course of a month. I never out right just went  “Yeah FUCK HOMEWORK IT SUX!”, but it just happened.

Infodirect, if you have never heard of it, is an online grade program my school used. Most of my teachers never actually updated it, even into high school it damn near never got updated. But the fates had it out for me one day.

One day, I’m sitting in mom’s room, the master bedroom but its not like dad is ever really in there, playing Runescape on my little HP Mini. It was March if I’m remembering correctly, because I had gotten a Membership card for my birthday just recently and I was in a Members only dungeon. Funny what you can remember.

Back to the story, I was playing Runescape and then my mom checked my grades. She saw my English grade was down, she clicks the tab and notices I haven’t been doing my homework in that class lately. She asks me to explain and I tell her simply that I just didn’t want to.

And then she calls dad into the room.

She shows him the grades and already you could taste how angry he was. The tension in the room skyrocketed, he was pissed, and that’s being extremely generous. The look in his eyes could strike the fear of God in the devil himself. He asks me why I wasn’t doing my homework with a sharpness and tone that could strike fear into a Drill Sergeant.

I respond.

“I just didn’t want to.”

Big mistake. As the words finish coming out of my mouth, his face drops even more than anyone thought possible. The fire in his eyes became a blazing nova. The air froze, in the seconds our eyes were locked I knew I was staring into the very pits of hell, his stare could kill God himself.

Our eyes were locked for seconds at most but it felt like an eternity. The room, as well as my blood, went absolute zero. My body had become a statue, I wasn’t breathing it was so tense.

It was at that moment I truly knew fear.

He storms out of the room on a warpath, as if he was going out to avenge the death of his mother. He slams every door he goes through and you can feel it no matter how far away that door is. Each slam became a heartbeat of mine. I didn’t budge. I was frozen to the ground in the kind of fear no twelve year old should ever feel.

Fear for one's own life.

He made his way over to the garage, which is located on the other side of the somewhat “c” shaped house. The Master bedroom was in the bottom sort of “hook”, the garage in the top one. I feel the door slam as he enters, there is a brief silence, and then a thud that could be felt throughout the entire house.

He punched the brick wall. Hard.

That thud was felt in my very soul. My blood was already so cold it was absolute zero but when that sound hit it went below even that. The agonizing scream he let out after the punch to the wall landed sounded like he just got his arm ripped off and then castrated with a rusty chopstick. The sound restarted my heart at a rate that was just below the threshold for being a heart attack.

Needless to say they punished me and took all my tech, like usual.

@xragaire

Here's what I did last summer. And autumn. And winter. I'm happy now. Go XNI!