“Obviously a mistake. There’s no way she’d get us confused. She loves me and hatesyou.”
“I’m serious, Chad. Something’s not right,” I said and looked back toward thehouse.
“I’ll tell you what isn’t right, YOU. You were the one who couldn’t keep it together, and your fucking school got involved. You caused Dad to go away.” Chad shoved my shoulder. “Get out of here, Ryan. I’ll handle this and clean up after youagain.”
I stood on the lawn and watched Chad go inside with Marie. Through the screen door, I could see Mom scurrying back and forth from the kitchen to the den carrying more rags to prepare for the beating that my dad would never give me. Chad followed her, yelling about how Dad was in prison. She wasn’t listening, so Chad finally stopped her and told her again. She wrapped her arms around him as it sunkin.
I sniffled again and spit on the grass to get rid of the disgusting taste I still had in my mouth. I chastised myself on the way to the bus stop for walking into it again. Maybe Chad was right; once a pussy, always apussy.
Instead of getting off at the usual stop to catch a connecting route, I stayed on the existing route, toward the beach. I got off the bus and headed towards my sanctuary; VenicePiers.
Venice Beach had always been a hike for me from home. But the treasures it offered me had always been worth the trip. I discovered all the wonders of Venice when I had been in the fifth grade. Where the pavement met the sand, I toed off my sneakers and placed my socks inside of them. As I headed toward my haven barefoot, I thought about the first time I found this beautifulhideout.
“Ryan!You stop your goddamn crying! No son of mine cries!” my dad yelled at me as he swung the belt while holding mywrists.
I had been caught playing with myself hours ago, and I was still paying the price. Chad worked in conjunction with my parents and was given a reward whenever he caught me beating off. My parents hadn’t approved of my exploration and made sure I knew how wrong it was. Part of the punishment was to receive their plan to purifyme.
“You keep your goddamn hands off your body, do you hear me? This is what will happen every time we catch you, do youunderstand?”
I could handle the belt; it was everything else that I freaked out over. The pain and the feeling that my dad and brother left behind not only scared me but made me feel like I had been covered in some vilesludge.
I was covered in vilesludge.
The belt afterward was probably meant to take my mind off the other form of punishment for purity that I had earned. I felt gross and needed to get their stuff off of me. He finally let go of me sooner than I expected and I fell to the floor and landed on my butt. I hadn’t been able to keep in the tears, it hurt like a son of a bitch when I landed on the floor. My dad loomed over me with his hands on his waist and stared in disbelief that I was cryingagain.
“Get to your room and think about how you can make better choices, young man,” my dad pointed in the direction of myroom.
With each stride, I could feel all of it, and I hated the way it made me feel. I ignored the laughter from my mom and brother and went into the bathroom. Just as I was about to close the door to take a shower, my dad’s hand prevented the door from closing all theway.
“I said your room,Ryan.”
“I will. I need to clean upfirst.”
“If you’re going to act like a filthy animal, then you’ll be treated like one.” He grabbed my arm and led me back to the living room for another round of the belt. “Animals roll around in the dirt and their own piss and shit. You will too, until you learn to not touchyourself.”
I kept my mouth shut but answered their questions when spoken to. I knew better than to speak out and instead I’d just take it. If I spoke, it made it longer. Any fluid left, my mom got a hair dryer and dried the fluid to my body. The dry feeling didn’t outweigh the crusted crap that had been burned into myskin.
I sat against the wall in the living room with my head on my forearms over my knees and listened to my parents fight in the kitchen. I couldn’t listen to them fighting and hitting one another. I didn’t want to stayhere.
I set out for a slow walk through the neighborhood. I had never been out of the neighborhood on foot and alone, but found myself crossing a major intersection all on my own. I kept walking until I reached Venice Beach. I walked along the sand and found a place alone under a pier. I carefully sat down on the dry sand and leaned against the sturdy beam of thestructure.
It had been the first time since I left the house this morning that I had finally stopped moving. The sand felt soft to sit on. After I took my shoes off and dug my toes in the cool sand, I started to look around. No one was near the pier, but in the distance, I could see families sitting together on blankets or playing in the sand with buckets. I found myselfcrying.
I tried to stop, but there was no one here to hit me for crying. There was no one here to hurt me. There was no one here. I could stare at the water for hours. I could cry here if Iwanted.
A grocery cart caught my eye next to a beam down at the next pier. When I looked closely, I saw a man bathing in the ocean. He was rubbing his arms and was waist deep in the water. I knew he was seated because the water wasn’t that deep under that section of the pier. It gave me an idea. Since no one was around, I could bathe here. No one would see me, and even though I didn’t have soap, maybe I’d still feel clean. Or at least get the first layer of crap off from myhome.
I built up the courage and scooted down the bank of sand that led to the shallow water. After I had glanced around me again, I quickly removed my clothes and crouched down in the cold water. Subtle wave after wave splashed around me. It was freezing water, and I got a lot of salt water in my mouth. But I didn’t mind. Under the cloak of the Pacific Ocean, I scrubbed at the dried, crusted spots with my barehands.
I knew I wasn’t clean, but I felt better. It had been the best that I had felt allday.
My timeat Venice always made me feel better. In a sense, the ocean cleansed me. One would think that I would have avoided doing anything that might cause the beatings, burns, andotherthings, but jacking off were the only few minutes of relief that I had in a day. I knew the repercussions but still did it. I just tried doing it as fast as I could or when I knew they weren’t home. I didn’t get caught all of the time, but when I did, I had to hear the lecture about being dirty anddisgusting.
I trudged to my pier and leaned against the beam that I had come to every weekend since fifth grade. The sand was still dry, and I buried my toes in it. The sky had started to blend into the orange and pink color that signified another day had passed. It was also a reminder that I was still apussy.
Why had I gone back and why didn’t I leave when I knew what theywanted?
School. It was all that I had. They weren’t going to take that from me too. USC and baseball were all that I had. This time I bled out of fear of them sending videos to the school. Was it worththis?
