This story is original –
Don’t take this story seriously
It is a 5 chapter story – with each chapter having 5 parts.
It is a first-person story about Kevin
Enjoy
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Chapter 1:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Chapter 2:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Chapter 3:
Part 1 Part 2
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Chapter 3 | Part 2
“How” Chun Chun began coughing. Out of rage? Out of anxiety? Who knows, regardless I was loving every minute of his demise. “How *cough* - How - could you do this to ME!?”
“Sir, calm down.”
“Shut Up.” I could see Casey feet stamper with uneasiness; he knew as well as I that he did not have the strength capacity to contain Mr. Chun. “Carey! CAREY! Where THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”
“Please sir, I ask –“
“Get. Get off of Me!” It is not wise to ever touch my Chun Chun when he is as I like to say, ‘disaster status.’ Once when I was nine, I tried hugging my Chun Chun during one of his tyrannical episodes and it left me with a three bulging bumps on my head. Why did I try such a kamikaze move? I was told by Mr. Chun that if he ever lost control just ‘give him a hug’ and he’ll calm down…well, it didn’t work. Combing my hair for the next three weeks was brutal hell. It’s strange, sometimes I miss those little things; sometimes I crave the abuse.
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“Get. Get off. OF ME!” A mere shove, rather than a punch, into Casey’s abdominal area meant Casey was fortunate to live another day. As Casey whistled for backup – I witnessed from the scratchy lined edges of the windowpane -
Mr. Chun scratched his head in confusion; from past experiences I knew he was fighting back tears. I was hoping it was tears of regret, tears stemming from his dark soul releasing – realizing his deeds of the despair he caused others. I prayed he was in pain, I was praying with a sly smile that he felt how we felt those years that he was in our lives. Yes!! My thoughts in my head were contradictory to the words of Jesus, as all I could think of was “Feel the mother fucking pain!”
It is a quite sadistic thing to have acrimonious thoughts upon anyone, even Chun Chun. I must admit it is not the Christian thing to do, and not now, but in the not so distant future I’ve learned to Rise Above my hatred notions: strive to ‘love’ one’s enemies and have the ability to offer any pains and hatred up to God.
But, this story is not a Christian conversion story.
Moving On…
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Not more than a flicker of a fish’s feather the security guards surrounded My Chun Chun. Finally he was to be feasted upon…
The next few actions taken by Chun Chun, even though I hate the man, deserves a standing ovation: He frantically pushed his way through all five security guards by screaming and wailing in great succession.
“AHHHH!! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!” Casey tried to hold him down, but the force of Mr. Chun’s shoulder plowed straight into Casey’s unconsciousness world of butterflies. I couldn’t quite see but to this day, I still believe that my Chun Chun jumped over two guards and slid across the hood of the car to finally slide back into his vehicle.
Silence. Chun Chun sat, as I’ve said before, silently.
The car engine revving through the night sky; I remember standing there on the ledge my eyes strained from looking beneath the window pain; my feet aching from standing. The guards and I were curious and anxious to see what would happen next.
For some odd reason I was craving a gun fight…But, I did not receive my wish because after about thirty minutes the car began to move backwards.
Revvvv. Revvvv. Chun Chun’s face gleamed from his car window staring straight through the house. Chun Chun’s glare was so powerful that out of fright I ducked my head and was hopefully out of sight. Peeking was my only option at the time.
Revvvv. Revvvv. My back was arched like the hunchback of Notre Dame and the stiffness was making my body queasy. I was dehydrated, hungry, and the crackles of my bones needed to be un-cracked. I giggled a little because I realized, no matter if he’s arriving or leaving from a scene, he always has a way to make the people around him suffer…
Revvv. Revvv. The car’s wheels began to drift, I would say it took another good thirty minutes for him to backup, switch gears to drive and leave the last traces of his remnants goodbye.
Revvv. No More.
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“Mom he’s gone! He’s fucking gone!” I ran downstairs with great exultation, with a relief that this monster, this man, was out of my life. But, suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks.
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I saw her. There she was, my mother crying on the kitchen table; my uncle consoling her tears. My face of elation soon dropped, the crease on my forward slowly creased tightly as I didn’t quite understand why my mother wasn’t celebrating.
“Mom. What’s going on?” My mother’s strength is parallel to of a great ox. She brought her head up and did a wonderful job to hide her sniffles.
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“Son. It’s time to rebuild.” A rock suddenly dropped into my soul. Snafu. Ouch. Order in the household, finances in the household, and I will specify again, ‘order’ in the household was all made possible due to Chun Chun’s behavioral structure by yelling and physically abusing people.
I began to recall in my mind that my mother and sisters did not have the proper skills to organize a house, move boxes; basically, the steps necessary to restructure a new life. All their lives my brother, Mr. Chun, and myself have been doing all the chores necessary to make sure my sisters, the little ones, and my mother lived a substantial care-free life.
I gulped because I now knew what this all meant: It now became my prime responsibility to find a way to sell the house, move into a new home, and help bring the family closer together in this troubled time.
I had a very clear flashing thought in my head: “I hate you Chun Chun. “
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That night, for the first time in three months I prayed the Rosary and looked up into the heavens and said:
“You bastard. I’m so ready for this – but you’re a tricky, tricky bastard. – I hope you know that I’m going to ask for your help in this next adventure to come. You fucker, you know I love you, but ouch.”
Yes. I said all those things out loud. Fortunately, my sister Clarice, the first born girl of the bunch, still awake at the ungodly hour of 3am decided to give me wage advice…
“Don’t cuss at God.” My sister is very religious; the 'no sex till marriage and don’t say God’s name in vain or you will burn in hell' religious. “I’m here to help. Don’t worry Kevin, I got got got your back.”
Two things crossed my mind: i) Why the hell does she try to be all cool with her repetitious words of ‘got’ and ii) boy am I going to need her help for the rest of the year.
“We’ll talk in a few hours. Go take your nap. Everything will be just fine.”
With Clay leaving in three weeks to go to summer school…all I could do was look up and think –
Ouch.
