As He looked down at the piece of white paper in his big oil-stained hand; he made several frantic gestures towards all of the red ink that could’t have come from anywhere but a Teacher’s pen. “another Failed Test; You’d think some of the things in that head of yours would start to click”, He said with a disgusted glance that he usually reserved for his wife. “Daddy I really tried to study hard for this one, I didn't want to disappoint you this time” said young George Lindwood Jr. through his tears. His father, George Senior, (Big George to his friends) was on the verge of screaming at his son. “Like hell you did, you must inherit your fucked up prioritizing from your stupid mother. “It’s second grade English for fuck’s sakes, we use it every day.” Scared out of his wits; little George turned away from his father to run up the wooden staircase to his tiny bedroom, but before his tiny feet could get him there; his father grabbed the collar of his school shirt. “ Did’t you learn last time?! You know better than to turn your back on me when I’m talkin’ to you boy!” Big George said, he reached his hand far back in preparation to smack his son across the face; then a glass mayonnaise jar crashed against the side of his face.
She saw it about to happen again as she opened the tattered screen door of their struggling household, she immediately moved in and swung the bag of groceries she had lugged up the cracked cement steps and out flew a glass jar. He’s never going to school saying that he fell down the steps again! Her mind flared these words with a strength she hadn't felt within her the past ten years of this abusive marriage, nine of which had included her own abuse, but she wasn't- no she couldn't tolerate this happening to to her little boy. She really swung that bag as hard as could, and in a fraction of a second The word “Hellman’s” became a million shards of glass. Blood and Mayonnaise spattered the entire kitchen and her Husband toppled over, he hit his head off the sink on the way down. Ellen had Tunnel vision and her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it pulse in her throat. The First thing she became aware of was that her son was crying. Little George ran to her and hugged her leg and buried his face there.
Big George’s vision was spinning, and the blood and Mayo in his eye wasn't helping,
but he was conscious enough to reach the .357 Smith & Wesson revolver in his waistband and managed to fire three blind shots before passing out on the tile floor.