No school, no gymnastics, no one to play with just cleaning the house and hoping for the best. The best is a moment rest without her scoldings and fights...
You can hope but it's not enough. The cleaning continues. Emptying cupboards, bookcases, more closets. What is stored in boxes has to be cleaned? Clothes need to be washed even if no one wears them.
The curtains need to be washed too. They are taken off and my mother put them in order in the hallway. She cannot remember which curtain belonged where. If she puts them in front of the wrong window it makes her furious and they need to be washed again! I don't understand why she washes them again. The windows are cleaned, everything is.
I wonder what other people think if they see her act like this. I guess I never know since most don't see it and if you depend on someone it's harder to complaint about the weird behavior. Perhaps it's good no one knows because if they wouldn't feel safe with her. The fact is they need her and the only way to go to someone else, get rid of her, is moving. You need to move to a different place or perhaps if you are extremely rich you can go somewhere else but you still cannot say the truth. The rich, the famous, doctors, teachers they are all the same. They stick together and if you say one of them is bad they all turn against you.
Thursday
October 22, 2020
Today I had to wash the whole Royal Albert collection of my mother. Cups for coffee and tea, plates for pie and smaller ones for chocolates. It's all clean but if she says it's dirty it is. I think there's something wrong with her eyes. She sees what no one else sees. It's the same with the paintings at the wall. Each day she checks them several times and according to her always someone touched them and not one single painting hangs straight. No one touches those paintings except she does. In the afternoon I have to follow her while she checks them out. She asks me if they hang straight after she touched them. They do not but I tell her what she likes to hear. If I say they are not and she is wrong she will be mad with me again. Like an idiot I follow in her footsteps and say what she wants to hear.
I had to clean the small room next to my bedroom too. I did half of it and started with the closet at the other side. Carefully I emptied one shelf after the next. I can't see any dust or dirt and the closet is neat but she told me to do it.
There it was at the back of the second shelf... A stoppered bottle closed with red tape. It's the same tape she uses to close the bags of the vacuum cleaner with. Inside the bottle is a baby, it's a boy. I don't know what to think. Why does she keep the little boy in the bottle, is she hiding him?
The door flew open and she sees me holding the baby. I can't help I saw it or took it out, she told me to clean and take everything out of the closet! She told me to do it.
She screams and yells and grabs the bottle out of my hand. I try to find a way out of the room but she is in my way. She's always in my way and I don't want her to beat me again. I do not want to get the dog leash, I did not do anything wrong, I did not! She hits me, bangs with books on my head and I still try to get out of that little room away from her. She pulls my hair tries the choke me and the only thing I want is away from her. She is the worst person I know, worse than the headmaster with his extreme beer belly who loves to humiliate and best children too.
I manage to get away from her but she comes after me. It's no far from my room...
She grabs the iron stool and hits me with it in my back, keeps hitting me till I reached my bedroom and close the door in front of her. There's no lock and I sit against it with my back, cry and think what to do next. She yells and slams on the door and I push some smaller furniture in front of it. I need to keep her out of her. My back hurts, my head hurts and I cry while I crawl on my bed. Suddenly it is quiet. She is quiet and I have no idea what she is up to. I stop crying and keep an eye on the door and...the small window above it.
Suddenly she asks me to open the door. Her voice sounds sweet but I don't trust her. She's not a sweet person and always tricks me.
"You can open the door honey, I'm no longer angry with you," she said with a sugary voice. I don't believe her but I cannot keep her outside my room forever.
She keeps talking to me till it's silent again.
Suddenly I hear a sound... Her face shows up in front of the window above my bedroom door. She used the high stool, climbed on it and watches me.
Friday
October 23, 2020
It doesn't matter how many bruises I have, cleaning the house, the whole ritual is a must. My dad cleans the bathroom and kitchen, the bakery delivers the bread and cookies and I need to wear a smiling face. I can't because nothing about me smiles. I am in pain, my body hurts and I will not smile. At least my dad doesn't ask me to help him wash the car, with the garden or clean up his tools in the shed. She doesn't force me to drive along with her while she pays her client's a visit. I can go to bed early and do not need to smile. It's the only good thing about being beaten up. Outsiders are not allowed to see me and my mother doesn't want to see my ugly face.
Saturday
October 24, 2020
The 'bring your mother breakfast on bed ritual and cleaning the house before church starts is what was asked from me. There's no Sunday school because it's still the Autumn holiday. Tomorrow school starts again. My parents do not visit church because I can not be trusted at home alone, it's what my mother said. I can not be trusted. I won't call anyone. I am not like her. I have no one to call to complain about her and if they wouldn't believe and those who do will never help me.
They only care about themselves, their own fears and tell me to respect my parents. 'Respect your parents' is some text in the Bible. I wonder who wrote it and what respect is.
I still have an ugly face. I am only allowed to be in the living for 'coffee and pie' I don't like and the dinner she cooked.
Sunday
October 25, 2020
No school for me. My 'ugly face' shows too much and so does the fact I can hardly walk for pain. At school, we have gymnastics too and we need to undress in the gym because outside it's too cold. I am not sure if she called the school to tell them why I am absent. No teacher visits me and neither does the doctor.
Sick I am only if she refuses to send me to school. At home, I am good to do the work. We still don't have a new housekeeper but my dad says they are searching for a new one because we need one. Perhaps we do and my mother will behave differently. I doubt the housekeeper will ever do the tasks I do.
Monday
October 26, 2020
I still need to stay at home. I need to hide and be quiet and clean up.
My mothers say it's good for me to spend some time with her at home.
Tuesday
October 26, 2020
Another day at home. Another day she put me at work. In the afternoon I was allowed to watch some television but right after the evening meal I had to go to my room and stay inside.
Wednesday
October 27, 2030
I want to go back to school but my mother won't let me. If I go to school I need to go to the gymnastic class in the afternoon too. She can't let that happen.
I hear the children play outside, at times I can see them from my bedroom window. The school isn't that far away.
What will the teacher say if I am back at school?
Thursday
October 28, 2020
I am allowed to back to school. I woke up at 5:30 a.m. polished shoes, made the beds with fresh sheets, set the table for breakfast and cleaned up. I needed to hurry because she kept me busy. I was just in time. My mother wrote a letter why I was ill. I have to give it to the teacher.
The bullies said I took an extra week vacation. I love to give them my last week vacation with my mother. I hope it does them good because being home alone with her is a horror and you are safer and more beloved if you are a dead boy in a stopped bottle.
Friday
October 29, 2020
A kid's diary
Record player
The wallet
Uncle G.
My father...
Persian rugs
Excellent article