Liam's story - 1. Chapter 1

My name is Liam Matthew. I know, two first names seems kinda odd right? Well the Matthew side can go fuck itself. Call me Liam. Period. Nothing else. People will only know my last name on forms I need to sign. Why do I hate my last name you ask? Well it’s very simple, my mom married who she thought was her prince, turned out to be a demon in angel clothing. I had no friends, I had no life, and I hated school. I lived in a horrible town, and to make matters worse the safest place I knew of in my old house was the crawlspace. Because my dad couldn’t fit inside the hatch to get in it. Things improved eventually, but it was quite the journey.

I guess I should start with who my dad is right? Well, his name is Bailey Matthew, although I’d just call him Molson Canadian. That’s his favourite beer brand. Oh and I guess Du Maurier is another name you could call him. He just loved those cigarettes as well. In fact he loved his beer and smokes more than he loved me and my mom. Before he turned into the scary grumpy old man who sleeps on the couch or the floor every night, he was a nice dad. He took care of us, he raised me, but then something happened. Was it my fault? I don’t know, my mom says it’s not, and I believe her, but I still feel a weight on my shoulders. Maybe if I wasn’t born he wouldn’t have turned into what he did. Believe me, I’m not suicidal but if I could have been aborted everyone would be better off.

My house was a mess. It was a cheap crappy old place that was basically falling apart. It leaked whenever it rained, and in the winter it always got too cold. One thing I never understood is whenever my dad would complain about not having enough money, he’d go out and buy beer and smokes. Maybe if he put the damn money into what matters, our house wouldn’t be the fucking shit it is. Hell maybe we could be in a better house. It’s nice to dream about that possibility.

My school environment was a fucking joke. You call it a school? Sure if school is the place you go for getting beat up everyday, drug deals and shootings every few days, and teachers not giving a shit about you, then yea this was a damn good school. I just want to get out of this place. I want out you hear me! But I’m stuck, because my dad makes sure my mom and I can’t leave. He’s the one who controls the finances. But I’ve been saving up, It’s not much but I shovel snow and cut grass and I’ve been saving $5 from every job. The rest I give to my dad to keep him off my back, well as much as I can anyway. He says he saves the money for my college, but yea right. He spends it on his habit.

You wanna know the scariest part of my dad and why I’m forced to sit and wait in the crawlspace? He hits. Friday nights have become known as my beating day, Saturday was my mom’s. One Friday I was sitting on the couch and reading a book when my front door opened up. My dad walked in, looked at me, walked into his room, and came back. He sat down in his chair to read the newspaper and then he started downing the bottle in his hand. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements to launch an premature assault so I just sat on edge, ready to run to my spot when he launched into action. Luckily after so many belt whippings you start to be able to recognize the signs. He’ll down his bottle to almost the bottom, drop it, it will smash into pieces, he’ll look at it and say ‘pick it up boy’ and I’ll slowly oblige. I’ll pick up the trashcan in the kitchen, walk back put the broken glass inside, and put the can back. I’ll walk back and slowly sit down, my heart racing and my hands twitching. He’ll continue reading and ignoring me and then he’ll light a cigarette. Problem with smoking while drunk is you start to lose your balance and ability to be steady. I begin to get ready to bolt to my basement door as soon as I know what’s coming, he’ll raise the smoke to his mouth for a deep inhale, and then it’ll happen. He’ll drop it on his lap and scream out in pain!

“AHHHHHHHHH SON OF A BITCH” I hear my cue and run straight for the crawlspace, “Get your ass back here you fucking dunce!” He’ll scream out and follow me to the stairs. Being sober means I don’t fall down them unlike him and I’m able to jump in the crawlspace and slam and latch the door shut and hide out.

My mom and I have a predetermined signal for knowing when I’m in hiding. When she gets home from work she’ll put her ear over the heating vent inside my room. Because I know she’s home because I can hear the footsteps I softly start jingling money around in my secret stash down here. She’ll then tap her feet twice in rapid succession to mean ‘stay put’ or three times to mean ‘he’s asleep, you can come out now’. I usually am slow to come out, but I have to eat what little food is available and make sure my mom knows I love her.

I have endured my fair share of beatings, but I’d take a million more if I can take away the beatings my mom endured. This one day as I was hiding out in my spot, I heard the argument happening. “Come here bitch!” I’d here, then a few sobs. It would get so quiet for a bit, I’d be holding my breath, closing my eyes, covering my ears, anything to escape from reality. But it was no use. I’d hear the crash as my mom was thrown against the wall, followed a scream as he slap her. I wanted to scream! I wanted to kill him before he laid another hand on her! But I was a coward. I just froze where I was and sobbed to myself as I heard scream after scream and crash after crash.

What did we do? Why did he subject us to this? When you marry someone, you promise to love them. Love doesn’t mean hurting them! When you have a kid, you promise to love them unconditionally. That doesn’t mean beating them! Every night I’d question God why he put me here. Why he created my dad. Why he put my mom here. I felt trapped!

Okay enough on that topic...soon.

Let’s talk about something happy for a change. If you can believe it anyway. Remember when I said I wanted out and was saving enough money for my mom and I to leave and start somewhere new? Well it happened. In fact, my little stash in the crawlspace eventually grew and grew and became $1000 dollars. Once I told my mom she said I needed to hide only a few things and be ready to leave when she got home. I hid my wallet, and my ring box. This ring box was passed down to me from my mom and said I could save it or sell it, whatever I wanted to do. I decided to keep it, if it was my dad’s I would have burned the fucker, but anything from my mom holds special value to me, one that money could never fulfill. So after my mom got home I snuck out of my bed, creeped down the hallway towards the door.

But

I stepped on a creaky piece of wood and my dad, who was in the living room on the floor passed out drunk, was awoken like a dead person in a coffin.

“Where do you think YOU’RE going?” He said and started stumbling around and grabbed me and I screamed out. “Shut the fuck up you little shit!”. I continued screaming out and my mom came in through the front door with a shovel and said to duck and hit my dad in the head with a loud thud.

“Come on baby! Let’s go!”

I was paralyzed with fear but she grabbed my hand and we ran to the car and drove off without looking back. The only regret I have about that night was not picking up that shovel and hitting him a few times myself.

My mom and I got settled into a low rent apartment and I ended up having to work along side my mom to get enough income in. Once she became settled in her career she said I could quit but I didn’t. I knew if I was ever gonna make sure we had a nest to fall back on, I had to keep working. I worked after school and weekends at a car wash. It didn’t pay much, but it was something. Eventually a few years later we were finally able to sustain ourselves nicely. We upgraded apartments to a nice middle level one and my mom started dating this cool guy by the name of Cameron Lathaniel. He told me I had worked enough and said I should enjoy my childhood and asked me to quit my job, which I did. He made it possible for me to have fun again. Now we still didn’t live in the best town and I didn’t have the best school experience...yet, but it’s what I came home to that I cared about. I came home to a happy family life, one that was safe and I didn’t have to worry about being hit or my mom being hit.

“Mom? Are you alright?” I said one night after I heard her crying in her bed. I sat down beside her and hugged her as I asked her to tell me.

“It’s just...I wish I did more” She said and continued sobbing, “I should have stopped him from laying a hand on you. I should have done something sooner. I should have done so many things that I can’t forgive myself for. I feel like I failed you as your mother.” This is the first time I heard my mom claim she failed me. This is the first time I found out we shared the same feelings of shame, sadness, and regret. I told her she wasn’t but she wouldn’t listen.

“Mom, he scared us both. I wanted to do more to, but he controlled us with fear.”

“I’m your mother Liam. That means I’m supposed to protect you with my life. I didn’t do that.”

“Mom, I love you, and I forgive you. Please forgive me to. We are better now though, we can move on. Look at Cameron, he loves us like we are supposed to be loved.”

We continued hugging and crying together, and then Cameron walked in and sat down with us after overhearing the conversation by standing in the doorway, “He’s right you know. I love you both, and you two are the best things to happen to me.” He kissed us on our foreheads, “I can’t erase your pain, but I can promise you a future of peace.”

The story ends there right? You know, the hollywood ending the camera zooms out with a promise of things being improved and getting better. Well not yet. I want to tell you about this exciting thing happening.

After Cameron realized how unhappy I was in my school he started looking around and found this really cool boarding school in downtown Toronto. It was there real happiness was achieved. I made new friends and actually learned for a new change. It was a Christian school but I didn’t care. I would take a little bit of God over the monsters in the public schools I was in. The rooming situations could have been better though. I was into rap, metal, rock, and pop for my music, and my roommate no joke was into classical, electronic, and jazz. Like talk about a culture clash! Hehehe.

Ryan was my best friend out of my group of friends. He was the first one I told I was gay and also about some of my home life. I lied to him about something, something I’m deeply ashamed of to this day. I told him something, but because I wanted to make my dad seem worse than he was I lied. I said how he’d steal my moms money and blame it on me, and she’d yell at me. While that was true to a degree, my mom never yelled at me. Ever. Someday I feel like I’ll need to come clean.

When I told Ryan I was gay his reaction the best ever! Like we were watching The Walking Dead together and I accidentally said that I love Chandler and he’s my favourite actor in the whole show! He gave me one of those smiles and was gonna joke about it being gay and once he saw my face and how embarrassed I was getting he was like, “Oh dude! I’m sorry! Liam it’s cool with me man.” and I just said thanks and eventually he asked if I liked iCarly for the very same reason of Freddy, and of course I had to say yes hehehe. That Ryan, he’s one in a million.

The school year wasn’t without it’s problems however. Being away from my mom I had a lot of trouble sleeping. Sounds pathetic right? It’s just I felt like a sense of security was gone, I felt vulnerable again. I felt like my dad could climb up into the window in my room and strangle me if he wanted. One time my roommate, who’s name by the way is Chris, walked over to me to pretend scare me and I totally lost it on him! I just went ape shit and almost strangled him myself! That was one hell of an explanation. I didn’t tell him the whole truth though, I just said I was having a nightmare, which was true, and he caught me at a bad time.

Another major thing that happened that first year was my dad did find out where I was. I was called down to the office and was told a letter had arrived for me. I walked back to my dorm and opened it. I knew the handwriting and so I was so nervous.The letter read:

Dear Liam,

I want you and your mom back. Nothing can apologize enough or pay you back for the hurt and trauma I caused for you two. But I changed. I kicked my habit, and I never cried more than I did when I found a picture of the three of us together on your birthday. I miss us as a family. Please come back…

From,

Dad

“FUCK YOU” I screamed out after I read it. Like you call that an apology!? Does that make up for all the times of sitting in the crawlspace and hearing the screams of my mother as she endured the slaps and pushes into the wall!? Does that make up for all the times he locked me in my room and bolted it from the outside, and came in and woke me up from sleeping and belt whipped me accusing me of stealing his beer!? Does that make up for all the times he chose beer and tobacco over fucking food and hot water for the family!? NO!!!! IT DOESN’T!!!! Do you know what I did after reading that letter? I burned the piece of shit and destroyed my fucking dorm in a violent temper tantrum! I wanted to destroy Chris’s stuff but I held back. Instead I just went into the washroom and looked in the mirror. In that moment I saw him in me, I saw his eye colour, his nose, his clean shaven face. It was too much for me to handle and I punched the mirror and then cried myself under the sink. Once Chris came in and saw what I did, he got the vice principal to come and see me. At first he was mad, but after he talked to my mom he eventually understood and gave me a break. He let me skip out on classes for a week and a few other bonuses. He is a good man. A little on the homophobic side though, but nothing I can’t handle.

The last major event that happened that year was I almost drowned in the bathtub. It wasn’t on purpose or anything but none the less it happened on my stupidity. You see earlier that day I had gotten into a fight with someone from my gym class, he hit my head pretty good and I guess I didn’t know how good, but when I decided to take a bath it never occurred to me I might pass out. So what happened? I closed my eyes and when I woke up I was thrashing myself to the surface to breath in some air. Once I was too panic shaken to stay in the bath I got out and nervously went to bed. I swear I must be the biggest idiot in the entire school, why must all the events happen to me? I’ll never know the exact reason why I have to seem like a dork all the time. Oh yea, I guess I should explain how I got into the fight in the first place. That day for gym we were playing soccer and I remember as I was running with the ball I was suddenly flashbacked to a night where I was running to the crawlspace to hide from my dad, when the boy behind me came up to steal the ball from me I turned around and punched him in the gut. He didn’t take too kindly to it and then he punched me in my face to which I fell down and that was that. The coach said I was fine, so I’m surprised I did end up having that near drowning experience.

It was the second year that I felt was going to be better. My new roommate's name was Trevor Johnson. He was sooooooo cute and nice! He liked the SAME music as me and the same shows! He had a sexy military buzz cut and he dressed super casual. With the exception of the school uniform, he always wore sweats and t-shirts. But I wasn’t complaining! Hehehe. Maybe one day I’ll tell him I’m gay and really like him, but I don’t think it’s worth it. You know how straight guys are with gay roommates. I would love to have him as my boyfriend, but I doubt that would ever happen. But that’s okay, because I’d love to just be his friend.

I’ll never forget the moment I saw him for the first time. I walked back to my dorm after playing a few rounds of basketball with the guys, and then he was there. Unpacking his bags, looking so...so cute and...and ALIVE! It’s like I was seeing a soul for the first time! I wanted to just stand there and stare, but I didn’t want any awkward moment so I introduced myself immediately! “Oh hello. You must be my roommate. I’m Liam.”

I stuck out my hand for him to shake and he returned his name. “I’m Trevor.”

“Nice to meet you Trevor. I’m guessing your first year right? I don’t recognize you from last year’s classes.”

While looking down at the floor and appearing nervous he said, “Yea this is my first year. Grade 10”

I figured this was the moment to put him at ease and tell him he had security in me, “Well you’ll like it. The nice thing is you already have a friend first day, and your dorm mates become your family.”

“That is good. Because I know no one here ahahaha”

Gosh he’s so silly! I love that about him! “That’s not true, you know me now hehehe. You want some help unpacking?”

“Sure. That’d be nice.”

While we were unpacking, that’s when I did find out all about his movies, and musical interests. I knew I’d like him better than Chris, but when he showed me all his DVD’s and told me the ones at his home that he didn’t think to bring, I knew we’d be great friends! I was so lucky to find Trevor today, and if I didn’t I don’t know how this day would have turned out, but something tells me it wouldn’t be as great. Heck who knows what this year has in store!

And that’s my story folks! Not too long, and not too short. The first day of my second year was coming to an end and I introduced Trevor to my ‘squad’ and I really had hopes he’d blend well. The guys were a little awkward with him, but I knew I could get them to come around and accept him. And they really didn’t have much of a choice hehehe.

This year is gonna be great! I know it!