or heard from them again.
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The party was over, and I was set to work to
clean up the mess. The apartment was covered in
the filth and grime of the night before. I had slept
through most of the party, which had only just
ended when I was woken up and told to start
cleaning. The sun shone brightly through the
windows, it’s heat already fermenting the stench
of cigarettes in stale beer, alcohol on the floor,
and the elusive smell of vomit and urine that I
would later discover soaking into the couch.
Debbie tiptoed around the apartment while
directing me to do the same. She whispered to me
to get all the trash up as quickly and quietly as
possible. I moved deftly back and forth from the
kitchen to the living room, padding around,
picking up trash and emptying ashtrays.
The trashcan in the kitchen was quickly full, and I
was not strong enough to lift the bag out. Debbie
came over from her chair where she’d been
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watching me clean and lifted the bag as I held the
can down to muffle the noise. The glass in the
bag rattled as Debbie wiggled the bag to the top
of the can. She set it down quickly on the floor
with a look of terror. While I was sure Bobby was
unconscious in his room, both of us knew that he
could wake up at any time, and this realization
filled us with fear. Debbie lifted the bag and
motioned for me to grab the bottom. Together
we struggled to get the trash to the door. Debbie
was tired and weak and had probably not been to
sleep before waking me up, but Debbie was
always tired and weak.
We got the bag out the door and down the stairs,
leaving it for later. We climbed the steps and
found ourselves locked out. I had double-checked
the door to make sure it was not locked before we
took the trash out. I looked at Debbie and saw
that she was crying. I knew that we had woken
Bobby, and he had locked us out. Debbie tapped
on the door and the sound reverberated through
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the stairwell. She took my hand and squeezed it
tightly as we stood there waiting for the door to
open. The door did not open, and we just stood
there. Waiting.
After some time, Debbie tapped again on the
door to no avail. Debbie told me to wait by the
door while she went back down stairs. I begged
for her to take me with her, but she refused and
pushed on my shoulders until I was slumped
against the door. With a quiet command to stay
still, Debbie descended the stairs to go use a
neighbor’s phone. Shortly after she disappeared, I
could hear the phone ringing in the apartment.
Finally Bobby picked it up and began to yell into
the receiver. The door suddenly flew open, and I
collapsed onto the apartment floor. I looked up to
see Bobby’s half naked form staring down at me
with the phone still to his ear. He reached down
and dragged me into the apartment.
“Bitch I told you neva leave that fuckin’ door
open and what tha fuck do you do? What tha
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fuck do you do?” He was yelling into the phone,
but he was staring down at me. His face was
inches from mine, and I could hear Debbie crying
on the other end of the phone.
“You betta get yo ass up here before I kill this boy
for waking my ass up.” He wrapped the curling
phone cord around my neck and beat the receiver
against my head.
“You little mufucka what tha fuck you doin
leavin’ that fuckin door open and wakin’ me up?
What tha fuck you doin?” He punctuated his
words with smacks across my face with the
telephone receiver. He didn’t want an answer; I
knew I wasn’t supposed to speak. He wanted
retaliation for the perceived disrespect and
disloyalty.
“Get in that corner and don’ you fuckin’ move till
I tell you!” He pointed to the far corner of the
living room, closest to the kitchen. Moments later,
Debbie knocked on the door, and Bobby pulled
her inside.
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He tossed her onto the floor by her hair. She
covered her face with her arms and began to cry.
I turned around to see what was happening.
Bobby saw my movement and stepped quickly
toward me, pushing my head into the corner.
“Keep your face in this corner and don’ you
fuckin’ move! That’s yer problem, you don’t
fuckin’ listen!” He pulled his hand away and
slapped the back of my head, bouncing my face
against the wall.
Bobby proceeded to beat Debbie while she
crawled around on the ground, searching for
somewhere to hide. From the corner of my eye, I
could see her moving across the floor close to me.
Kicking, screaming, punching, screaming,
Bobby’s attack was unwieldy.
Bobby bent over and spoke into Debbie’s ear,
“I’m goin’ back to bed, and I don’t wanna hear
another fuckin’ sound. DO. YOU. HEAR. ME?”
“Yes.” She whispered through her cries, “Not a
sound.”
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“An’ dis little bastard does not MOVE
from that
corner
until I say so. Do you hear me? Doesn’t
fuckin’ move!” His words were an explosion of
brutality.
Her response was inaudible but acceptable, as I
heard him tramp back to his room and slam the
door. Debbie crept to my side and whispered an
apology, telling me I was a good boy for listening.
“Just do what you’re told. Your dad’ll be up soon,
and you can go lay down then. It won’t be long. I
promise.” Her promise was as empty as her
bloodshot eyes staring at me.
I stood in the corner for hours, trying to keep still
until I heard Bobby’s bedroom door open. I
raised my body and stood as straight as I could
manage, leaning my shoulders against the walls
that formed the corner. My nose was firmly
planted in the corner.
“Did he move?” He asked Debbie, referring to
me.
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“No baby, he’s been there the whole time.” She
said anxiously.
“I wasn’t asking you, was I? I was asking him.” I
heard Matthew climbing on the couch.
“No, he’s been there the whole time I think. I
haven’t been up long but he’s been there since
I’ve been watching TV.” Matthew reported all he
knew to Bobby. He hadn’t been awake when the
beating happened and didn’t know why I was
standing in the corner. Surely he didn’t care.
Since he had been back from the foster home, my
life was worse than before he had left. Bobby’s
rage had built up in the time Matthew was away,
and since his return he had been more vicious
than ever.
I felt a harsh tug on my head. My neck jerked
upward as my head was pulled back. Bobby’s
breath stunk of vomit and alcohol as he spoke,
“I’m goin’ out. When I get back ya better be right
here in dis fuckin’ corner.” He slammed my head
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back into the corner. I felt blood drip into my
eyes.
He announced his departure to Debbie and
Matthew. There was a noise from the kitchen
where Debbie was sitting. Matthew said his
goodbye from the couch. Bobby repeated to
Debbie what he had just told me. “He is not to
move and you don’t leave dis house.” He warned
as he made his way to the door.
“We need groceries,” Debbie said meekly.
“I don’ give a shit what you need,” he screamed
back. “You’ll get ‘em when I get back so quit yer
bitchin’.” He lowered his voice and spoke slowly,
“If anyone comes you give them what they want,
and leave the money in the drawer.” With a slam
of the door, he was gone. Dropping my shoulders,
I slumped against the wall and took a breath.
Time went by slowly, and I got weaker standing
against the wall. My legs were tired and aching. I
switched from leg to leg as each fell asleep from
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standing all morning and into the afternoon.
Taking a chance, I called out to Debbie.
“Mom, mom.” I whispered into the corner. She
was sitting a few feet away at the kitchen table.
“What do you need baby,” she whispered back.
Matthew was still lying on the couch watching
Bewitched
, and I could hear his intermittent
laughter. I hoped he would not hear me
whispering to Debbie. Matthew would tell Bobby
that I was talking, and that would be as bad as my
having moved from the corner.
“Mom, I’ve got to use it.” I was dancing in place,
trying not pee my pants. Moving about trying to
keep my legs from falling out from under me had
jostled my bladder, and the urge to go to the
bathroom was unbearable. I whispered again
thinking she hadn’t heard me over the TV,
“Mom, I’ve got to go bad.”
“Baby not now. You’re father could come home
any minute. You can go when he comes home.”
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Her reply was slow and quiet, speaking when the
TV volume could mask her words.
“Mom, I’m gonna pee my pants if I don’t go. I’l
go fast. I promise. I’ve got to go.” I was whining,
but there was no denying the urgency. If I peed
on myself I would be in trouble. If I got caught
talking by Matthew, and he told Bobby, I would
be in trouble; if I moved out of the corner, I
would be in trouble.
Debbie sensed the seriousness of my words. I
never whined, or cried, or complained. If I said I
needed to go, she knew I understood the risk.
“Go. Quick. Then get right back in the corner.”
She whispered her instruction as she got out of
her seat. She walked to the couch, and I passed
behind her, hiding my shuffling to the bathroom.
She sat down on the end of the couch next to
Matthew’s head, as I made my way up the short
hall. I sat down to relieve myself so my legs could
rest. As my legs dangled from the seat, I heard the
door open, and I shot upright from the toilet,
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urine streaming onto the floor. I pulled up my
pants and ran to the corner. I caught Bobby’s eye
as he was closing the door.
“What. The. Fuck. Are you doing outta dat
corner boy?” His voice was calm and menacing. I
froze in place, still urinating on myself. When he
spoke again, he had a perilous smile on his face.
“Shit, boy, you’re pissing all over yourself.” Then
the smile disappeared. Debbie stood up. Matthew
sat up slightly and twisted his body around to see
my urine-soaked pants.
“He had to go to the bathroom, baby. He just
now moved. He’s been in the corner all day until
just now. I promise.” She was up and holding one
of his forearms. He held a package tucked under
one arm and a cigarette in his hand.
“I don’ give a shit what he had to do. I told him
and you
that he was not to leave ‘at corner,” he
waved his cigarette at the corner. “What I say
aint gotta be listened to? We’ll fuckin see abou’
dat.” He threatened.
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He stopped me on my way back to the corner,
covering my forehead with the hand that held his
cigarette. I could smell the burning end singeing
my curly hair. He tilted my head back to face
him, “Ya aint gotta go anymore do ya? Yo pants
is soakin’ ass wet like a baby.” He let go of my
head and tossed me easily into the corner. His
attention turned to Debbie. “Didn’t you teach dis
boy how to use da toilet? We aint got no money
to buy diapers for him too.”
Turning his attention back to me, he ordered me
to turn around and face him. Cold, afraid, and
tired I faced him as instructed.
“Get yer ass in dat bathroom. I’m gonna have ta
teach you how ta use da toilet. Lucky for you I
gotta piss right now.” He motioned me toward
the bathroom. My wet pants stuck to my legs, and
I had trouble moving. Bobby shoved me down
the hall and guided me forcefully into the
bathroom where I fell to the ground, slipping in
my own urine. Closing and locking the door
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behind him, he began to undo his pants. Almost
immediately Debbie began pounding on the
door. She was crying and begging for Bobby to
open the locked door. His determination to teach
me a lesson was unfazed by her entreaty.
He undid his pants fully and began to urinate as I
watched. “Look at me boy. You see dis?” I looked
up at his face from the floor. “Dis how a man use
da toilet, not all over hisself or the floor like a
baby.” He said, noticing the floor smeared wet
with my urine. He freed his hand and reached to
the sink and grabbed the cup of toothbrushes.
Dumping the toothbrushes into the sink he held
the cup between himself and the toilet, filling the
cup. As the last of his urine dripped into the toilet,
he handed the cup to me. His warm urine
splashed onto my face as I tried to hold the wet
cup.
“You eva’ piss on my floor again I’ma’ kick yo
ass. If you eva’ disobey me when I tell you ta do