Post by recklessjack on Oct 18, 2006 19:48:58 GMT -5
OOC Note: Yeah, doing something different, suck it bitches.
Ah, the beginning, nothing was greater to my mom and dad then the birth of their third child, Bradley Allen Wallace. That would be my given name. I was born on March 13, 1979 in New York City. Like I said, I was the third kid my mom and pops had. I had a brother, Jack, who was twelve when I was born. I also had a sister, Mary, who was six. At first, Jack hated me with a passion. For a silly reason too. He thought I was cutting into the funds for an Atari 2600. When we got one a couple of years later, Jack finally started to act more like a good brother then a guy who used to pick on me nonstop. My sister though, she wanted me to believe I was a girl, so she would put me in all of her old dresses and take pictures afterwards. Dad found them one day. Let’s say that Mary never did that again to me at all. Any who, I was the miracle child of a couple that were “advanced in age”, their forties I was told.
My mom always believed in me. When I was five, I had the common dream of being a fireman somewhere. She thought that was a great dream to have. Dad though, he was a little less supportive. He told me to my face that I was too fuckin stupid to be a fireman. Talk about shattering a kid’s heart. After that, mom never really looked at dad in the same light. He was always positive towards Mary and Jack, so why not me? Dad then started to be a really big jackass. If one of us would look at him the wrong way, he would get the belt and whip us good. He would also beat the shit out of mom for no reason what so ever. I guess that’s what alcohol can do to a person. Oh well, still makes you have a good time.
One story for an example here. One night when I was about seven, the Knicks lost a ball game and dad was livid. He called me into the room. He had an empty beer bottle in hand, which wasn’t a shock. Dad called me over really close. I leaned in close like he wanted me too. When I did, I got the bottle smacked on my face. The bottle semi-shattered on my face, cutting my right cheek wide open. The scar may be gone on the outside but the one on the inside will always be there.
I have a lot of bad stories from my childhood until I was ten. My life changed that day as did a lot of others. It was a nice, clear night in Brooklyn. Mom, dad, and I had just sat down to dinner. Now I remember having a green veggie on my plate that I did not care for at all. I picked around the veggie for most of the night. My dad finally looked over and saw that I hadn’t touched the shit. He yelled at me to eat the damn stuff. I shook my head no. So he got up, walked over to me and laid me out with a right hook that could have knocked Foreman out in the first round. I did start to cry but there was one strange thing, mom had finally seen enough of all the crap dad gave out to us. She hauled back and slapped him right in the face. I had never seen him get so mad in his life. He laughed and then proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of my mom that night. By the time he was done with her face, her eyes were swollen shut. They looked like a couple of plums. Her nose was broken; her jaw looked dislocated among other things.
Dad saw me run over to the neighbors and did nothing. He just sat back down and started to eat his dinner once again. Needless to say, he was arrested. Mom spent about two weeks in the hospital. Jack and Mary were shocked as hell when they found out what happened. They were both out of the house that night. We stayed with the neighbors for a while until mom got out of the hospital. Once I was back in school, I quickly became a loner type kid, alone with my thoughts. Mainly wondering why this had happened to me and not someone else.
Grade school was fun though. We had recess. That was the best part of the day in my opinion. I’d always just play on the swings or on the slide. A few kids tried to make friends with me, but I wanted nothing to do with anyone at that time in my life. Perhaps that’s why I still have trouble making friends to this day. I was very anti-social. Until a new kid moved in next door one day.
I was about twelve when this new family moved in next door. They only had one kid, my age. I really didn’t care. I’d rather just watch some good TV instead of making a new friend. One day though, this new kid came over and asked if we had some butter, very strange for a pre-teen to want but its just butter. I was the only one home that day so I took him to the kitchen that still brings up bad memories for reasons that are well known.
He asked me what my name was, how old I was, that type of questions. I answered truthfully, although I thought about fuckin with this kid’s mind for fun. He then told me his name is Joe Miller and he moved here from Miami. I had to laugh. Someone moving to Brooklyn from Miami was funny as hell. Turns out that we were going to be in the same class, same room even. Might as well make one friend right? We got to talking that day, about a whole lot of things really. First off was how cool the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will always be. Those guys will never get old. Even with that new cartoon show, I still watch that. Then we talked about something twelve year olds never talk about, professional wrestling. This is where we differed. He thought Hulk Hogan was the best wrestler ever. I proceeded to tell him that he was wrong. The best wrestler ever was Ric Flair.
Joe and I agreed to disagree on that topic. We had a lot of other things in common as well. Too many to list actually. So that day I had managed to make a friend before the all important teenage years when you really need a friend or two. When I told mom that I had made a friend that day, she didn’t believe me. I had to go next door and have Joe tell her that we became friends. She nearly cried.
Not a whole lot else happened until I turned fourteen. Mary graduated from high school and was getting a free ride to Ohio State. Pretty bitchin’ I thought. Jack though, he was still doing nothing besides flipping burgers at Burger King. You see, Jack dropped out of school after dad beat mom really bad to help out with the bills. That was nice of him and all, but I would rather take Mary’s route and go to a good school to receive a post secondary education. As some know, that would never happen.
Like I said, nothing happened that much from seventh grade until summer going into sophomore year in high school. That was the summer when she moved in down the street. When I first saw this girl, I knew she would be the one I would marry. I shit you not, she was the one and I didn’t even know her name.
One afternoon that summer, Joe and I were tossing the old pigskin around in our yards. Joe needed the practice for the new football season coming around the bend. He was a good candidate to be the new starting quarterback for our school. He told me I should try out for some position. I thought about it for a few days. I finally told him that I would go out for football with him that year. He then asked me what position I had thought about being. I told him a player on defense. He laughed and said we’ll see.
Anyways, we were still just standing around, pissing our summer away when the new girl from down the street came over to us. She told us that he name is Jessica and that her family moved from the boring state of Iowa. Now I have passed through Iowa on my travels, even wrestled there once or twice and damn is that place boring as hell. Joe played it cool and said hi back to her. I barely managed out an audible hello to her. Another thing, Joe’s was what you would call a ladies man. Me on the other hand, I was more of a shy guy who would fumble around my words at the sight of a hot girl talking to me.
Joe and Jessica made some small chat about school. She then brought up the fact that she was going to go out for cheerleading. That sealed the deal for me as far as going out for football. Joe told her that we were going to be on the football team. I nodded my head in agreement. She asked Joe what position he played. When he said QB, she was less then thrilled. Shocking, I know. A cheerleader turning down a quarterback. She then asked me what position I played. I had no idea what position I was going to be so I said halfback. Jessica’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Her parents started to yell for her. She said good bye to us. Joe and I waved goodbye. Then Joe and I had our first real serious talk ever.
“What do you think of her man?” Joe asked me.
“Damn man, I would love to go out with her. A total babe dude. What do you think man?” I retorted.
“She seems cool. Sounds like you called dibs already though man. I won’t ask her out or anything man. Scout’s honor.” Joe said, trying to keep a straight face.
“You know I am no good with girls man. It’s like I freeze once they talk to me. I don’t know why I screw up like that man.” I told Joe with a serious look on my face.
“I don’t know why either, dude. That is something I am have to going to teach you. School is in session.” Joe said laughing.
“Yeah well, I will have to teach you not to get your ass kicked in Temco Super Bowl.” I said laughing right back at Joe.
“Ah fuck you man. I gotta go eat man. Later.” Joe told me, looking at his watch.
I waved to him as he jogged into his house. I stood there for a couple of minutes, thinking about what just happened. I thought that I had a shot at making the football team this year. Of course though, I had never played organized football in my life.
I went inside to get something to eat myself. I looked around the house to find the place was empty. Going into the kitchen I found a note from my family. The note basically said that they went out to dinner without me. I crumpled the note and sat down in a chair next to me. After a few minutes, I figured out what to do. I picked up the phone and called for a pizza. Wasn’t the greatest of ideas, but when you are fifteen and hungry, pizza is the shit.
When the pizza arrived, I was in a frantic series for money. I thought I had a twenty in my wallet but I found only a simple five dollar bill. So I had to tear the house up in order to find more money. Once the pizza got to the house I finally had enough money to pay for the pizza.
After enjoying the large pepperoni pizza, I was no longer starved. The strange thing was, my family still wasn’t home yet. Then I heard a knock on the door. I went to the door, confused about who would be coming over during this time of day. I opened the door and there she was, Jessica. “Can I use your phone?” she asked me.
“Yeah sure, go ahead,” I replied with a bit of coarseness in my throat.
“Thanks.” She said with a smile on her face.
Jessica walks towards the phone, wiggling her butt. I still don’t know if she was trying to turn me on or what with that. Anyways, she made her phone call and was soon going towards the door. Being the fool I was, I let her walk out the door without saying a word.
My mom always believed in me. When I was five, I had the common dream of being a fireman somewhere. She thought that was a great dream to have. Dad though, he was a little less supportive. He told me to my face that I was too fuckin stupid to be a fireman. Talk about shattering a kid’s heart. After that, mom never really looked at dad in the same light. He was always positive towards Mary and Jack, so why not me? Dad then started to be a really big jackass. If one of us would look at him the wrong way, he would get the belt and whip us good. He would also beat the shit out of mom for no reason what so ever. I guess that’s what alcohol can do to a person. Oh well, still makes you have a good time.
One story for an example here. One night when I was about seven, the Knicks lost a ball game and dad was livid. He called me into the room. He had an empty beer bottle in hand, which wasn’t a shock. Dad called me over really close. I leaned in close like he wanted me too. When I did, I got the bottle smacked on my face. The bottle semi-shattered on my face, cutting my right cheek wide open. The scar may be gone on the outside but the one on the inside will always be there.
I have a lot of bad stories from my childhood until I was ten. My life changed that day as did a lot of others. It was a nice, clear night in Brooklyn. Mom, dad, and I had just sat down to dinner. Now I remember having a green veggie on my plate that I did not care for at all. I picked around the veggie for most of the night. My dad finally looked over and saw that I hadn’t touched the shit. He yelled at me to eat the damn stuff. I shook my head no. So he got up, walked over to me and laid me out with a right hook that could have knocked Foreman out in the first round. I did start to cry but there was one strange thing, mom had finally seen enough of all the crap dad gave out to us. She hauled back and slapped him right in the face. I had never seen him get so mad in his life. He laughed and then proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of my mom that night. By the time he was done with her face, her eyes were swollen shut. They looked like a couple of plums. Her nose was broken; her jaw looked dislocated among other things.
Dad saw me run over to the neighbors and did nothing. He just sat back down and started to eat his dinner once again. Needless to say, he was arrested. Mom spent about two weeks in the hospital. Jack and Mary were shocked as hell when they found out what happened. They were both out of the house that night. We stayed with the neighbors for a while until mom got out of the hospital. Once I was back in school, I quickly became a loner type kid, alone with my thoughts. Mainly wondering why this had happened to me and not someone else.
Grade school was fun though. We had recess. That was the best part of the day in my opinion. I’d always just play on the swings or on the slide. A few kids tried to make friends with me, but I wanted nothing to do with anyone at that time in my life. Perhaps that’s why I still have trouble making friends to this day. I was very anti-social. Until a new kid moved in next door one day.
I was about twelve when this new family moved in next door. They only had one kid, my age. I really didn’t care. I’d rather just watch some good TV instead of making a new friend. One day though, this new kid came over and asked if we had some butter, very strange for a pre-teen to want but its just butter. I was the only one home that day so I took him to the kitchen that still brings up bad memories for reasons that are well known.
He asked me what my name was, how old I was, that type of questions. I answered truthfully, although I thought about fuckin with this kid’s mind for fun. He then told me his name is Joe Miller and he moved here from Miami. I had to laugh. Someone moving to Brooklyn from Miami was funny as hell. Turns out that we were going to be in the same class, same room even. Might as well make one friend right? We got to talking that day, about a whole lot of things really. First off was how cool the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will always be. Those guys will never get old. Even with that new cartoon show, I still watch that. Then we talked about something twelve year olds never talk about, professional wrestling. This is where we differed. He thought Hulk Hogan was the best wrestler ever. I proceeded to tell him that he was wrong. The best wrestler ever was Ric Flair.
Joe and I agreed to disagree on that topic. We had a lot of other things in common as well. Too many to list actually. So that day I had managed to make a friend before the all important teenage years when you really need a friend or two. When I told mom that I had made a friend that day, she didn’t believe me. I had to go next door and have Joe tell her that we became friends. She nearly cried.
Not a whole lot else happened until I turned fourteen. Mary graduated from high school and was getting a free ride to Ohio State. Pretty bitchin’ I thought. Jack though, he was still doing nothing besides flipping burgers at Burger King. You see, Jack dropped out of school after dad beat mom really bad to help out with the bills. That was nice of him and all, but I would rather take Mary’s route and go to a good school to receive a post secondary education. As some know, that would never happen.
Like I said, nothing happened that much from seventh grade until summer going into sophomore year in high school. That was the summer when she moved in down the street. When I first saw this girl, I knew she would be the one I would marry. I shit you not, she was the one and I didn’t even know her name.
One afternoon that summer, Joe and I were tossing the old pigskin around in our yards. Joe needed the practice for the new football season coming around the bend. He was a good candidate to be the new starting quarterback for our school. He told me I should try out for some position. I thought about it for a few days. I finally told him that I would go out for football with him that year. He then asked me what position I had thought about being. I told him a player on defense. He laughed and said we’ll see.
Anyways, we were still just standing around, pissing our summer away when the new girl from down the street came over to us. She told us that he name is Jessica and that her family moved from the boring state of Iowa. Now I have passed through Iowa on my travels, even wrestled there once or twice and damn is that place boring as hell. Joe played it cool and said hi back to her. I barely managed out an audible hello to her. Another thing, Joe’s was what you would call a ladies man. Me on the other hand, I was more of a shy guy who would fumble around my words at the sight of a hot girl talking to me.
Joe and Jessica made some small chat about school. She then brought up the fact that she was going to go out for cheerleading. That sealed the deal for me as far as going out for football. Joe told her that we were going to be on the football team. I nodded my head in agreement. She asked Joe what position he played. When he said QB, she was less then thrilled. Shocking, I know. A cheerleader turning down a quarterback. She then asked me what position I played. I had no idea what position I was going to be so I said halfback. Jessica’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Her parents started to yell for her. She said good bye to us. Joe and I waved goodbye. Then Joe and I had our first real serious talk ever.
“What do you think of her man?” Joe asked me.
“Damn man, I would love to go out with her. A total babe dude. What do you think man?” I retorted.
“She seems cool. Sounds like you called dibs already though man. I won’t ask her out or anything man. Scout’s honor.” Joe said, trying to keep a straight face.
“You know I am no good with girls man. It’s like I freeze once they talk to me. I don’t know why I screw up like that man.” I told Joe with a serious look on my face.
“I don’t know why either, dude. That is something I am have to going to teach you. School is in session.” Joe said laughing.
“Yeah well, I will have to teach you not to get your ass kicked in Temco Super Bowl.” I said laughing right back at Joe.
“Ah fuck you man. I gotta go eat man. Later.” Joe told me, looking at his watch.
I waved to him as he jogged into his house. I stood there for a couple of minutes, thinking about what just happened. I thought that I had a shot at making the football team this year. Of course though, I had never played organized football in my life.
I went inside to get something to eat myself. I looked around the house to find the place was empty. Going into the kitchen I found a note from my family. The note basically said that they went out to dinner without me. I crumpled the note and sat down in a chair next to me. After a few minutes, I figured out what to do. I picked up the phone and called for a pizza. Wasn’t the greatest of ideas, but when you are fifteen and hungry, pizza is the shit.
When the pizza arrived, I was in a frantic series for money. I thought I had a twenty in my wallet but I found only a simple five dollar bill. So I had to tear the house up in order to find more money. Once the pizza got to the house I finally had enough money to pay for the pizza.
After enjoying the large pepperoni pizza, I was no longer starved. The strange thing was, my family still wasn’t home yet. Then I heard a knock on the door. I went to the door, confused about who would be coming over during this time of day. I opened the door and there she was, Jessica. “Can I use your phone?” she asked me.
“Yeah sure, go ahead,” I replied with a bit of coarseness in my throat.
“Thanks.” She said with a smile on her face.
Jessica walks towards the phone, wiggling her butt. I still don’t know if she was trying to turn me on or what with that. Anyways, she made her phone call and was soon going towards the door. Being the fool I was, I let her walk out the door without saying a word.
