How Phate has tried to kill me. Pt. 2 (693 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.2 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <oleannder.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-11-20 14:02:07 EST
I began this tale of the times that I have tried to end my brother Phates' life back in another post: http://www.ubersite.com/m/79510 . Looking back on things I guess that as a toddler I just did not put enough thought into the small attempts to kill him that I made. Unfortunately that did not change much through the years, I only got sloppier.
Don't get me wrong, that sick bugger has gotten in a few good shots of his own. When we were younger (11 & 10) our parents basically made us their servants (as most parents do with their own children). The main chore being that we had to wash & dry the dishes after dinner. What would normally be a ½ hour job for most people took the two of us upwards of 2 hours. Not because we were lazy - although we were - we just fought the whole time.
When I say that we fought, I don't mean that we bickered back & forth & called each other names (which we still did & do), I mean we actually wrestled around & threw the occasional punch at the others nose. Quite often it would go on until either one of us was bleeding or our Dad had ventured up the stairs to find out just what the hell was going on.
It must be in our genes to fight. Our Father would regale us with tales of how he & our Uncle would create a path of destruction through their parents home when they were younger. Doors, windows, plates, tables, chairs & televisions were not remotely safe when the two of them got into it. By comparison, Phate & I were almost whimsical in the way that we waged war against one another. We did the typical things, I'd kick him in the stomach & he'd pin me down & torture me with spit droplets, but occasionally things would get slightly out of hand.
One evening, while working on the dishes after a barbequed meal we got into it again. It started out with name calling & began to escalate to some shoving & hitting. I don't really remember what happened next but whatever it was sent me into a blind rage. I have always had something of a temper problem & once I get angry enough to go past a certain point I lose all control to function like a normal human being. My brother actually seems to enjoy my full on rages as it means that I will then chase him, which is fun for him because he likes to do one of two things: a) run outside so I will follow him & he can lock me out or b) drop to the floor in mid-chase so I will trip over his body & go flying through the air like some kind of terrible scene in 'Greatest American Hero'.
Neither of those two options happened this time.
So here I was in full 'Rage-Mode', chasing my younger brother down the hallway, ready to rip out his intestines & fashion them into a new kite. Instead of dropping down, the little bastard whips around just as I am about to smack him upside the head. He raises his hand & before I can clue into what is going on my hand is impaled on the object that he is holding. Pain & horror rushed through me at the same time as I pull my hand back to my body & look at it. Sticking right through the middle of my palm is one of the barbeque skewers from dinner that night. That's what he had been working on drying just as the fight began. The skewer wasn't just limply hanging on to the palm side of my hand either, the fucking thing went right through my fucking hand.
Suddenly we stop fighting as we realize what just happened. What were we going to tell our parents? How in the name of all that is unholy do we try & explain this little adventure away? Did my hand slip in the sink? Were we attacked by pirates? Did I want to know how it felt for Jesus up on the cross? What were we going to do?
It was too late. Before we could come up with a good excuse Mom had come up the stairs & saw her two darling children in the hallway, only her daughter had a skewer sticking out of her hand. While yelling for my Dad she yanked the skewer out of my hand. Ouch. I do not recommend ever trying it yourself. Trying to describe the pain would be as pointless as trying to describe blue to a blind man. Needless to say that it hurt. A lot. Quick trip to the emergency room & I was back home, ready for punishment. Whoo Hoo.
Here's the truly sick part now. We didn't learn from this. Not even two weeks had passed when the exact same thing happened. Barbeque, dishes, fight, run & skewer through the hand again. Fuckin' thing went right through the same place only there was less resistance because instead of a complete hand to contend with it only had to go through a raw still healing hole.
Yes, it hurt more the second time & yes I still have the scar.
Score:
Phate - 2
Me - still 0 damnit
User Reviews
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2005-11-23 14:39:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
shouldn't it be phate - 3? i mean he did get you twice after all. and apparently the second time had more flawless aim than the first if it pegged the hole.
Submitted by Unbound (user info) at 2005-11-23 14:29:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice family.
Submitted by crazyaardvark (user info) at 2005-11-21 02:30:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Phate (user info) at 2005-11-21 01:18:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I AM TEH WINNER OF THE RIVARLY
Pt3 = steak knife?
Submitted by Oleannder (user info) at 2005-11-20 23:51:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2005-11-20 21:09:22 (#)
Ranking: 1
Pervert.
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Well, yes I am but what does that have to do with anything here?
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2005-11-20 21:09:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Pervert.
Submitted by Oleannder (user info) at 2005-11-20 19:06:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Call911 (user info) at 2005-11-20 16:44:40 (#)
Ranking: 2
Entertaining... I have sister that is 2 years younger than I.
I moved away to college to get away from her. My parents believed a boy should never hit a girl. I was beaten severely and protested, but ignore... the older one is always screwed over.
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SO TRUE!! Just what is it about being close to the same age as a sibling that you have to be stuck doing whatever it is that they are doing? Allowance was the same, bedtime was the same & yet if we did something wrong then I got the short end of the punishment stick because I was older & should have known better. Just when was I supposed to learn to be more mature when I was treated the same way as the younger child? Where is the fucking logic????????
Maybe I should reconsider therapy.
Submitted by Trevor1st93 (user info) at 2005-11-20 18:34:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sweet Jesus, your brother is an idiot.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-11-20 18:20:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
you had to wash the dishes so you were your parents slaves?
what is this? a 1987 teenwolf movie?
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-11-20 17:00:00 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Call911 (user info) at 2005-11-20 16:44:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Entertaining... I have sister that is 2 years younger than I.
I moved away to college to get away from her. My parents believed a boy should never hit a girl. I was beaten severely and protested, but ignore... the older one is always screwed over.
Submitted by Phate (user info) at 2005-11-20 15:56:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Tally as it stands today....
Phate 293,492
Oleannder 4
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2005-11-20 14:28:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Fooled me once - shame on him.
Stick a skewer through your hand twice? Shame on you.