Eidetic Tragedy

There is a particularly strong memory I have.
She tried to kill herself
in front of me, once
when I was 11 or 12.
I knocked the toilet door off
its hinges
while she took a mouthful of pills
and threatened my father screaming
that he was responsible.
I begged her under tears to vomit them out
and finally,
after standing there,
my father grabbed her,
put his finger down her throat
and dragged her out of the apartment.
Threw her on the street.
Soon after,
on the day when she asked us brothers
if we would not like to live
with her instead
and  I just said “no”.
I saw her heart break
because I only saw a crazy old woman,
which she was.
My father liked to hit his kids,
but he was more stable
so I had a better chance with him.
I just had to be a good student and he was happy.
How proud he was of me,
the irony is great.
I didn’t even have to bother to get him to leave me alone.
After school, I could lock myself in
for the rest of the day and forget my worries
over a PlayStation game.
I never wanted to invite my schoolmates.
I just wanted to be home,
in my room,
where I felt most comfortable.
I didn’t have to deal with others
they didn’t have to deal with me,
and how they would react to my problems at home.
I kept it all inside myself
held it dearly in my brain
I don’t have a lot of memories of my childhood
for better and for worse.

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