Chapter 2

The 60s
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Kindergarten headbangers ball - 5 y.o.
Bang, bang, bang. My hearts pounding really hard because I'm paranoid. I'm real quiet to make sure no one else is around my door or in my room. I know I'm paranoid, but it's ok with me. It's what makes me tick. I was taught to be paranoid. He taught me real good. I hear the echoes from the TV downstairs in my dark room. When's it gonna happen next? When's it gonna end? When I get stronger and older I'm gonna fight back or run, and keep running. I'm in pain but I can't open my mouth, I feel the terror but can't tell anybody , I don't want to think about my shame but I want to tell somebody. My thoughts tell me its not safe, my hidden life in the dark. The night reveals what the day hides. When its dark, bad things happen. I don't like the dark. In school we learn that God is the way the truth and the light. The light is good and God forgives all sinners if they repent. They just have to tell the priest they are sorry and say some Our Fathers and Hail Marys in the pews outside the confessional. That's what he does. He thinks he is forgiven. He loves me, 'cause he tells me in the dark. He shows me he loves me. But I don't want this love and I just keep banging my head against my pillow until I go to sleep. Maybe that will make it go away. Maybe that will make him go away. "Quit banging your head" would boom from the downstairs blue recliner, then silence, for about 2 minutes, then the banging would start again. The banging is the only thing I know that I can control.