Goodbye Teddy

by Stockholm, JD

  I wipe my eyes and then I put the picture back and take the ironing to my mum. I don’t say anything about it. I make my dinner. I am having stew. It is from tins. I can make it very fast. I pour it in the pan very careful. Then I don’t spill any and my mum doesn’t get mad at me and make me throw it away.

  She doesn’t like when I do the food wrong. She gets mad and then I have to throw it away. I cut an onion for my mum. I cut it wrong. She told me I was being all stupid with it. I was showing her what we learnt at school. But she made me throw it away. Now I do everything like my mum says so she can’t be mad about it.

  I don’t think about the picture while I am making my dinner. I don’t want to. It will make me cry and then my mum will see. I try and think about my story instead. I see it like a picture in my head. Then it makes me laugh again. I look at my mum. I don’t want to laugh. But she heard. “What are you laughing about? Did I do something funny?” she asks. I tell her nothing I was thinking about school.

  My dad comes in. He has been in the back garden. Now he wants his cup of tea. It is a giant cup. My mum tells him I keep laughing. He asks me why. I tell him it was from a funny story at school that I wrote and the teacher read it out.

  “It must have been a good story?” my dad asks and I tell him yes. My mum asks me about it. She asks me what it was about. I don’t want to say. It makes me feel shy inside. But she tells me to. I tell her the boy’s name and that he got a new computer for Christmas, then it came to life.

  “Isn’t that a stupid name?” she asks me when I tell her what he is called. I don’t answer. But then she tells me about things in the story. She has read it. Maybe she sneaked in my room and saw it. It was on my desk. She laughs about the story with my dad. They say the names and the things in the story in a bad voice. They are mean and stupid. I hate them. I wish I didn’t tell them about the story. I wish she didn’t read it.

  I don’t say anything. I stir my food and when it is done, I put it in a bowl and ignore them. My dad makes the stupid voice and says things about my story. I hate him. I wish he would just shut up. He doesn’t know anything. I think about throwing my dinner at him. I liked my story. Now he makes it feel bad. I want to say swear words at him, but I don’t. Then he will hit me. He always hits me because I’m not his super special spoilt son like my brother. I wish they all went away and didn’t come back.

  I get my bowl and go to the dining room and eat my stew. I don’t say anything to them. They stay in the kitchen and they laugh because they made me get in a mood. They are just stupid and I wish they would go away. They keep saying bad things. They don’t ever like me. It makes me feel bad inside. I think about the picture too. I try to eat my stew but my mouth wants to cry and then my food tastes bad. I wish they didn’t say any bad things.

  My dad goes out of the kitchen and into the back garden again. My mum goes too. I don’t look at them. I finish my stew and put the bowl in the kitchen. But I don’t put it in the sink. I am not allowed to do that. If I do, then she has to wash the whole sink. I look out of the window. My dad is sat in his chair. He has his tea and his book. He tries to read but my mum talks lots to him. Sheba lies on the floor with them. I look at my mum’s iron. My brother got spoilt because he burnt his hand. I could just put my hand on it. Maybe it doesn’t hurt very bad. My brother is a baby so he cries at everything anyway.

  I pick the iron up. It is still turned on. I put my hand near it. But I don’t put my hand on it. Maybe it really is too hot and then I cry. I look at my mum outside. I see her stupid face and she talks to my dad. Maybe they can be nice if I make my hand burn. Maybe I get nice things too. My brother gets lots of nice things.

  I close my eyes and count.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Not four, never four. I put my hand on the iron. It is very hot. It makes my hand hurt so much. It feels like the skin comes off. I don’t scream about it but it makes me cry. It makes my stomach turn over and maybe I will be sick with the stew. It feels like someone cut my hand to pieces. It hurts so bad. I can’t breathe. My nose runs and I cry.

  I see my mum. She is going to come back in the kitchen. She will know I am very stupid. She will tell me I am bad. Maybe I will get in trouble because I touched the iron. I put it back. She comes in and I don’t say anything to her. I make my mouth stay closed. Then I don’t cry and she doesn’t see it. I don’t like when she sees me cry. She laughs when I do. She makes me cry more. I tell my mum I am going to read. She says okay.

  I go to my room and close the door. I cry very much about my hand. I get my clothes and put them on my face and then my mum can’t hear me cry loud about my hand. It hurts so much. I hug it to me but it doesn’t stop. It feels like it set on fire. I crawl on the floor and the crying doesn’t stop too. I try to make the crying stay quiet. But it wants to be loud.

  I lie there for a long time. I make my feet hook together and then I make myself rock. I can do that still. I do it a lot of times when the bad man has been. It makes it go away. It makes me go to sleep. I try to rock myself to sleep on the floor.

  I don’t know I went to sleep. When I open my eyes it is dark. My hand hurts. I need the toilet too. I can put some cold water on it. I get off the floor and don’t hug my hand. I don’t want my dad to see. Then he asks why. I put it at the side, but it is very sharp.

  My dad is on the sofa when I go downstairs. He is reading. My mum is lying on the floor. My brother has his cartoons on. I ask my mum and dad if I can use the toilet. My dad says yes. I tell him thank you. My brother tells me to come over. He wants to show me something. I want to say no, but my dad looks at me. I go to my brother. He shows me his new videos. My dad sees my hand. He gets it at the wrist and makes me turn it over. “What is this?” he says and I tell him nothing. He tries to touch it but I move it away. Then my mum gets it. She presses it very hard with her fingers. I cry loud about it. I can’t help it. It just comes out. I tell her to get off. She presses it again very hard. I wet my pants. I didn’t mean to. But she won’t let go of my hand. My mum looks at my pants. She swears at me. She tells me I am a dirty little shit. “Are you stupid or something?” she says to me. “Go to the bathroom and get cleaned up.”

  I nod. I know I am stupid. I know that is why they don’t like me. I tell her I am sorry. I go to the bathroom and put cold water on my hand. I look in the mirror. I hate his stupid face. I wish I could make him go away and die. “I hate you,” I say to him. I hate his stupid face. I wish I could make him go away. He is a dirty little shit like my mum says.

  Fifty Two

  When I come out of the bathroom, my brother has gone to bed. I don’t know I was a long time in the bathroom. I don’t know its bedtime. “Is your hand better?” my mum asks me. I don’t say anything about it. I don’t want her to say it is my fault again. I hug it to me. “Go and get a flannel and wet it,” she says.

  She keeps them in the bedroom. I rush up there but I stay quiet, then I don’t wake my brother up. I get a flannel and go and make it wet with cold water. It feels a little bit better when it is cold and wet. It makes the fire go away. I go back to the lounge.

  My mum says I can sit on the sofa and watch the television with her. I say thank you. I don’t get allowed to sit and watch television lots of times. Usually it is my brother. Not me. Maybe it is because I burnt my hand. My mum is watching some hospital programme. I have seen it with my Nan sometimes. I like it. But there is always a big thing that makes the hospital run around.

  My dad has gone to the kitchen to get his tea, but he comes back. He sits next to me. I think about the last time he did that, then he hit me because I was bad. Maybe he is going to hit me for burning my hand. I know I am stupid to do it. My mum gets up. She says she is going for a bath. I watch the hospital programme. I hug my hand very tight because it hurts a lot. I try not to think about it.

  My mum comes back after her bath. She just has a t-shirt on. I don’t like it when she does that. She doesn’t wear any underw
ear with it and then she sits down and we can see everything. I don’t look. My mum puts a tape in the video player and presses play. I know what she is going to watch. Lots of porn films. They always watch them. They are stupid. They have stupid music too.

  The woman is doing something, then the man comes and he ties her up. I don’t look at it. I look at the floor instead. I want to go to bed. I don’t ask my dad though. He got mad last time and then he hurt me very bad. I hug my hand tight. Maybe he won’t because my hand hurts and I burnt it like my brother.

  My dad unfastens his pants. I don’t look, but I hear the noise the zip makes. Maybe he can forget I am there. I feel the sofa shake. I know what he is doing. He makes noises too. I pretend to watch the film. But I look at my mum’s ornaments at the side. Then they think I am looking but I don’t really. My dad breathes very hard. I wish I could go away.

  My mum gets up. I don’t look at her too. But I see her at the side. I hug myself tight. My hand hurts when I move it. I look at it and not them. My mum sits at the other side of my dad. I don’t know what she is doing. I turn and look. But it is an accident. I didn’t mean to. My mum is just sat there. She doesn’t do anything. But my dad sees it. He touches himself.

  My dad grabs my arm. He pulls me so I have to turn around. I slide off the sofa. I have to kneel down. He doesn’t say anything. I know what he is going to do. It makes my tummy turn over inside. Maybe I will be sick because I am scared. I don’t want him to put it in my mouth. I don’t like it when he does that to me. I don’t like how it tastes. It makes me want to be sick.

  My dad pulls my head so then his thing goes in my mouth. I close my eyes. I don’t want to see. I count lots of times. I know tomorrow I won’t be here. I will be doing something else. I will be alive and it will all be gone. I tell myself lots of times. I say it when I go to the dentist so I don’t get scared about it. I hear my mum make noises. When I look, my dad has his hand between her legs. I close my eyes tight. I don’t want to see.

  My dad finishes. He makes it bad in my mouth. He holds my chin like always. He looks at me and then I have to swallow. I don’t like to do it. It makes my mouth and throat feel bad. He smiles at me and tells me I am good. He says I need to lick my lips. But I don’t want to. He says it again. I do it. Then he tells me to go to the bathroom and get my teeth brushed and my face washed. He looks at my hand and tells me to get a new wet cloth too. I nod about it and go to the bathroom.

  I brush my teeth hard. The taste doesn’t go away. It doesn’t ever go away. I can smell it too. It’s there all the time. I hate it. Sometimes it comes when I haven’t done anything to my dad. Then I remember and it makes me want to be sick. I even brush my tongue. That nearly makes me sick. I look at the mirror. I can’t stop all the crying. I don’t know why they do it. I don’t know why I am so bad. I wish they loved me like my brother but I have to do the bad things all the time. He doesn’t. Just me. I wish they didn’t do it. I wish they were nice. My brother gets everything and I don’t. I try very hard to be good.

  I wash my face and all the tears away. I make myself stop crying. I get the flannel wet and cold again. Maybe I can go to bed now. I go back to the lounge and ask. But I am not allowed. My dad tells me I have to come and sit down. I have to watch the rest of the film, but I don’t want to. It makes me feel bad inside.

  My dad tells me to take my clothes off. He says I have to stand up and do it. I do stand up. I look at my mum. She tells me to do it too. Her voice is mad about it. Maybe she will hit me. Maybe I made her mad. I turn around. I don’t want them to see. I take my top and pants off.

  “Turn around,” my mum says. “And take off the rest.” I don’t want to.

  I think about Rachel. I haven’t seen her for a long time. I keep hanging out with Lewis. Maybe I can go and see her. Maybe she misses me. We could go to the golf course or something. My mum tells me to get on the sofa. I have to watch more of the film but I don’t. I think about lots of things. Maybe Rachel will be mad she didn’t see me for a long time. I hope she isn’t.

  My mum shouts my name. She is mad. She has shouted it lots of times and I didn’t answer. But I didn’t hear her. “You’re not listening,” she says. But I can’t help it. My mind wants to think about lots of other things.

  My dad grabs my arm. It hurts. It makes my hand hurt too. He pulls me hard. He digs his fingers in my arm and then he pushes me over. He starts with the sex. He does that fast too. I try to move but he doesn’t let me.

  I don’t think about it. Maybe I can see Lewis instead of Rachel tomorrow. If Rachel is too busy. I can go early in the morning. My dad does it so hard it makes me cry. Maybe I can just go and smell the petrol tomorrow.

  My mum makes all the noises, then my dad does. Then my dad tells me to go to bed. I do. I hug my burnt hand tight and go away.

  Fifty Three

  I like some Saturdays when I go to my Nan's house. I ride my bike there because it isn’t very far. She lives near my dad’s work. I have to knock on the door in a special way so that she knows it is me. I knock three times, then three and then another three. Then she answers the door. She lives by herself. She doesn’t like to answer the door in case it is someone bad.

  I put my bike in her hallway. I am allowed to use the front door at her house. I look up the stairs when I go in. I don’t like it up there. It feels like the bad man is there all the time. I think about him hiding. I don’t ever go upstairs. I use the toilet outside instead. I wonder if the bad man walks around when my Nan is asleep. I would be scared in the big house all by myself. He would come and then no one comes to help.

  We go into the backroom and I close the door. Then the bad man can’t come in. He doesn’t ever come in the backroom. Maybe he comes down the stairs, but he doesn’t come in. My Nan’s cat hides. It really is a scardy cat. She doesn’t like lots of people and then she hides under the chair, but she comes out later. My Nan is trying to clean up. She does her cleaning on Saturdays because she is at the place that helps her be happy so she doesn’t get sad about my granddad. She has the hoover out. I ask her if she wants me to do it. She says yes.

  Sometimes on Saturdays, if it is a nice day, we walk to town. It isn’t very far. Just a very long road and then we are there. I used to walk with my mum, but she doesn’t like to walk there anymore. It makes her scared to go into town. She thinks something bad will happen and then she can’t get home. Lots of people laugh she says. They know things and laugh at her because they want to do bad things.

  I like to go to town with my Nan. She lets me look at things and then I don’t get on her nerves and get shouted at. My mum doesn’t like me to go shopping. I am not allowed when they go to the supermarket because I ask for things. Then they take my brother for his dinner at a café. I am not allowed there either. When they go to the supermarket, I have to go to my Nan's because my mum says I will cause trouble in the house; I don’t know how to behave.

  Sometimes my dad picks me up when they are on their way home. They don’t take my bike though. I have to get that myself on the next day. They don’t pick me up today though. They have friends coming around and they don’t have time. I have to be home by six, though, otherwise I don’t get time to make my own dinner. I have to help get the shopping in the house from the car. My brother doesn’t help. He is lazy. They always let him be lazy. Maybe it is because he is too fat and stupid.

  I put my bike in the garage when I get home. Then I go into the kitchen. My mum and dad and their friends are in the lounge. I don’t have to do the shopping today; they did it already. I ask my dad if I can make some dinner. He says yes. Sometimes he says no if I am too bad. Then he doesn’t let me. Sometimes when I know I am too bad, I don’t ask at all. He is happy today. He has his whiskey and his friends. They are drinking the wine he makes. He makes it in the attic in big buckets. Sometimes I sneak it. I like it a lot. My mum and dad and their friends are laughing.

  My brother is at the table in the dining room. But he comes in the kitchen because he is
bored. I don’t make him any dinner. He had it already at the café. My mum and dad always take him there. But he is bored that’s why he comes. He doesn’t want to be in the front room and listen to all the boring things.

  I make my dinner and eat it in the kitchen. Then I don’t get in more trouble because my mum has cleaned the dining table and then I would make it a mess again. My brother is playing with handcuffs. He got them in a police set he got from the supermarket. He puts them on my wrists while I eat, but they are not very good. I get them open and take them off. He says I broke them. But I didn’t.

  I put my plate on the side and all my rubbish away. I am not allowed to leave anything out. I have to put my plate in a special place. Then I get the handcuffs and I put them on him. He can’t get them opened though. I laugh at him, then I open them with the key. The key is little and plastic. I put the handcuffs on his legs and he tries to walk up and down, but he falls over and then we both laugh a lot about it. He gets up and does it again, but he falls over too hard and the handcuffs break. It makes him cry.

  I say to him maybe we can use rope instead. He thinks it is a good idea too. He has some. He has my mum’s old washing line that he uses to tie on his go-kart and pull it about. We use it when we play and I pull him very fast. He goes to get it. Then he comes back and I tie it around his hands. He tries to get them unfastened, but he can’t.