“Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul.â€
― Dave Pelzer, A Child Called "It"
Freddy hated hospital food! If the freaking head wound didn't kill him, the trash they are feeding him will! It's been two weeks since Freddy got his head split open by his own mother. Two weeks since she put that gun into her mouth and blew her memories out the back of her head! Freddy showed no emotion when the police man told him of his mothers death, none, he just sat cold and empty on the hospital bed. Since then it has finally sunk in that the bitch was dead and he was free! An almost permanent smile was spread across his face at all times. He recovered marvelously and was set to be released to the state, well until Michael Fontanna walked into the Hospital.
It had been six months since Freddy had seen his father. Turns out Michael went off and did quite well for himself as he went out to Atlantic City and hit it big. Freddy's jaw hit the floor as he looked up from someones failed attempt at lasagne. His dad was dressed from head to toe in some Italian designer that Freddy would never be able to pronounce. Michael walked up to the bed and rest his hand on Freddy's leg...
How ya been son?
Where does Freddy even start! Does he tell his dad that he has missed him everyday since he walked out on them all those months ago? Maybe he tells him about the deadly night at the Davies house? Either way he was speechless right now. He didn't know if he should talk or cry or scream. Michael Fontanna pulled up one of the wooden chairs next to Freddy's hospital bed. He clears his throat and begins to talk softly to his son...
Look...I know you have no reason to believe me son, but I have thought about you and your mother since I left. You see it was a bad situation, but I always intended on coming back and rescuing you. I know you must still be grieving the loss of your mother but I'm here now Son and I want to take you home. Would you like to come live with your daddy again?
Freddy nodded in agreement because he was still in shock and couldn't speak. The nurse came in and took Freddy's vitals, wrote some shit down in his chart and handed Michael his son's discharge papers. Freddy's shirt he came in with was ruined and couldn't be saved but his father had brought him a shirt from Atlantic City which Freddy wore with pride. Was this real? Did his dad just come back to save him. Was he about to have everything he ever dreamed about? The answer is no! But that's another story for another time!
“Many abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and freedom.
But the personality formed in the environment of coercive control is not well adapted to adult life. The survivor is left with fundamental problems in basic trust, autonomy, and initiative. She approaches the task of early adulthood――establishing independence and intimacy――burdened by major impairments in self-care, in cognition and in memory, in identity, and in the capacity to form stable relationships.
She is still a prisoner of her childhood; attempting to create a new life, she re encounters the trauma.â€
― Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery
Have you ever been to a small mid-west town? Maybe you live in one yourself. It's a place where everyone knows your name and most of the citizens don't even feel a need to lock the door. Antwerp Ohio was no different. Mrs Jenkins walked her annoying bark box, Princess Buttercup, every morning at six am. The Oasis Bar and Grill was full everyday at 3:05 pm, with thirsty Dana employ's at quitting time. One of those guy's was Richard Logsdon, a family man with three girls and a lovely wife of thirty years! Well that's what everybody in Antwerp where led on to believe anyway. What happens behind closed doors at 1122 Castleway Drive is nothing more then what horror movies are based on!
He had been battling the voices inside his head for years. Keeping the demons at bay long enough to get through until the next day when he would have to do it all over again. As many know, living that way, a man could reach his breaking point. Well one day Richard had hit that wall. After drinking heavily for several hours, trying to kill his brain so he could have a moments peace. He just wanted the voices to stop!
Richard walked into his garage where he kept his Remington 700 SPS Tactical locked up in a safe. He grabbed a box of shells and walks back into the house. He walks into the bedroom where his wife of thirty years lay in their bed. She had complained of a headache and went to bed early. Richard raised the barrel of his rifle and pointed it at his wife's face, and with tears in his eyes he squeezed the trigger. Her head exploded from the force of the shot. Richards three daughters were startled from the sound of the gun fire.
Kathy, who was the oldest of three sisters, was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner when she heard the shot. She ran into the hallway that led to her parent's bedroom and seen her father standing there with her mother's blood covering his face and chest. She let out a blood curdling scream before running outside through the patio doors. It had gotten dark by now, as she ran into her fathers tool shed outside. She screamed as she heard another shot come from the house!
She thought about her sister Abby who was only nine months apart from her in age . The shot sounded like it came from her room. Abby was most likely in there talking to Becky Jackson, her best friend since birth, on the telephone. Oh God did he just kill Abby! She had planned on becoming a Veterinary when she grew up. Her thought was interrupted though by the sound of broken glass. Her father had thrown their little four year old sister through the glass patio sliding doors, as she lays lifeless in front of the tool shed. Kathy covers her mouth to keep the scream inside. Her eye's filled with tears as she sees her father standing over little Ashly's prone body. He aimed the rifle and BANG he pulled the trigger!
He turns his attention to the tool shed. Kathy can feel her heart about to break out of her chest! He got closer and closer to the door. Kathy didn't even know the man coming her way. No way was this the man she called Daddy! The man that never missed one of her recitals or helped her with her math homework when it was to hard. This man walking towards her was a monster! Her mother was dead! Her sisters where dead and now he wanted too finish off the job!
The shed door opened with a force. Kathy was blinded by the porch light and couldn't see her father snatch her up by the hair. He pulled her out into the middle of the yard and made her get on her knees.
Daddy please don't!!!!!
Richard raised the rifle and put it flush against Kathy's forehead. Kathy closes her eyes and begins to pray. The sound of the gunshot made Kathy flinch as she opens her eye's and watches as her Father falls to his knees. There is a gaping wound where his face used to be. He had turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger. Apparently choosing to save his oldest daughter. Kathy begins to shake as her eye's are fixated on her fathers dead body. You can see the cherries and berries of a whole squad of police officers surrounding the house...
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