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Mothers Rage: A chapter of "Honduras"

Mothers Rage 

As a child, you don't realize things that you go through. Sometimes, things happen and you don't even know why, or have developed enough mentally to conceive certain parts of your life as a child. My Father put me in a hospital at age 4 with a ruptured ear caused by a hit to the head, well, that was not a shock to anyone who knew him and back then there was not much done about it as this may have been considered at the time a reprimand. Scared by my father I was, of course, but would be at ease around my Mother. I remember always loving my mother and relying on her to protect me. Being from Honduras, my mother had lots of family she left behind to live in the States. Mother would sacrifice a lot of things including the frail stability of her own immediate family which included us. To my fathers dismay, my mother would start bringing over her sisters or whores, as my father called them, to come live with us in our apartment dwellings in Chicago. One of my Aunts named Delilah was one of the first to come over. Delilah was sweet and kind and had children of her own that were still in Central America. My aunt loved us and cared for us while my mother worked. My mother got Delilah a job where she worked at Hall Printing, manufactures of such famous magazines as Playboy. Delilah did not last to long at this job and claimed it was very hard work. Delilah eventually went back home to Honduras. The next sister, "The Bitch", was brought over as my mother wanted to help her family get a start on life here in the States. If you could think of all the evil characters of all time and mix them in a blender, they would still be angels in comparison. The worst part about this relative is that she would not go back! As children we had to deal with her taking over every aspect of our lives and seemingly in control? She had a failed marriage with a poor soul and conceived a daughter, her only child. Unfortunately, this failed marriage meant that she would live with us and bring her daughter with. The bitching and whining toiling night and day about us to my mother took it's toll on my mother. One day, The Bitch, complained to my mother that I was doing something wrong. I overheard this and thought nothing of it till I saw Mothers Rage staring right at me. I knew something was about to happen and it did. From the onset of the first strike to my back with an extension chord, I felt the stinging, burning, scorching lashes one after another. The force of each lash harder than the next. This continued as I am barely able to breath from the pain and the crying, I was ten at the time and I am 49 writing this and still cry. Even my aunt was concerned at what she just witnessed. When it was finally over, I had that after effect of to much crying that feels like a hiccup and breathing issues of trying to catch my breath. My mother, sorry for what she did, lifted my shirt up from the back, I can't imaging what she saw.  I remember her treating the welts that I could not see but could feel. As she was tending to them, you could feel the welts as she passed over them. Like I said, as a child, you don't have the capacity to understand what just happened, but even then, I began to hold my head down as I began to feel nothing and like nothing. Self worth did not have a chance to emerge. When I finally had the courage as a Man to ask my Mother why she did that, she replied, to get her sister to stop complaining about us so she taught her a lesson through me. Maybe a year or so after that incident, the bitch was complaining wanting me to give up my toy to give to bitch Jr. I refused to give it up and as she tried to take it from me, I gave her an uppercut that left her crying all day!..........Bitch! Though they are both still bitches to this day, she never bothered me again!

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