Monday, July 9, 2012

Giving up on a daughter: Dominoes falling.

                                          Dominoes Falling.

                               Covering ass when all else fails

 

                  I looked out from the back porch of my house, all seems clear, opening screen door. Whiffs of morning, dewy air great with odors of dogshit. Man of near 50, balding and just above earlobes graying to brown locks, brown eyes behind tiny facial glass, ventures out to his backyard.

               “yeah, fine, go to your job! What have I got: NOTHING! NOTHING! None of you taught me anything!” the brunette blond with various tats shrieked at him in unending statements as vloume reached fever pitch.

              Good morning, Rachel, he met her yells with an even flow of tone and volume. Being down this oneway road many years now , wishing to just great a day in peace, he walks toward his dark grey Chevy Trailblazer after unlocking his failing back gate.

             “Yeah, RUN AWAY! JUST GO!” a can, perhaps a branch gets heaved at his car by a slender 28 year old, his eldest daughter, hitting off his windshield, flying over.

             Locking gate, he goes along his routine as he has done for over 17 years.

            Rachels screams and hurlings becoming a thing of the past with each tenth of a mile his digital odometer clocks.

             Buzz Lightyear, to here and Beyond, he quips, avoiding the crackheads with hard left wheel pulls, avoiding desperate humanity, diving in front of his truck, goes about his way.

            Trailblazer steadying as he delicately rolls her back into groove, engine humming at 2000 RPMs, he rides toward his morning coffee fix.

         Going thru his day, taking calls, aiding those in his job, helping callers with billings snafus or areas similar. Having one single purpose in this day: Get his daughter arrested before he loses everything he has ever worked for. He does this cold-heartedly yet with hopes his daughters arrest might bring about change for her.

         He is a failure where she is concerned and can finally acknowledge this after over ten years of trying beyond her eighteenth birthday.

         She cannot hold down a job, she cannot make appointments to Free Clinics to get help yet can get herself to the seediest areas of Cleveland to be the devourers that she thinks friends.

         Stupid white badgirl wannable, continuously never learning and repeating past mistakes, much like her father that keeps having hopes she would someday learn, thrusting into blind alleys of that fading, happiest of dreams. She goes unfettered to lands of comfort.

         As her father plots her downfall.

         This man is stupid. One cannot say ignorant as everyone in Rachels family warned him and stopped consulting with her long ago on regular basis. He trundles through his day as he has countless times ago. Keeping some failing hope in humanity he continuously tried.

       Realizing sincerest of failure, taking deepest of gulps of humiliating bitterness, he leaves work.

        Thirty minute drive to place he needs to go, emotionlessly knowing what is best for his daughter.

         Straightfaced, head held high, opening glass door, Gander Mountain hat on his balding head, he walks to front desk.

        “Your business here?” an officer greets him with a voice less than that of some drone in a bad B-movie.

         Wish to meet your watch Commander or better yet, a Detective. Man of too even tone and facial expression says to the Officer behind thick glass.

         The drone says flatly: you here to report a car crash, dog barking? What?”:

         I’m here to narc out my daughter.

          “why,”

          She’s selling pot to minors, smoking up with them and making the other side of my house little other than Meth-Lab_Central.

 

          About two minutes passes by, a Detective walks out to greet him.

Knowing this man, they extend hands and shake.

         What’s going on?

        My daughter is both selling drugs, pot, or allowing them to be done on the other side of my house as they do so.

        Good you came here. What’s the address?

        Numbers and street name given, in emotionless tone.

         Mark, some kid gave her up a day ago. Busted his sorry ass for shoplifting. Mark, I will note you came here and express your concerns.

         Looking down at scuffed tile, Mark, said coldly: Just get her out of my life! I failed like others that stopped talking to her. They warned me and I did not listen.

         Within a few days, Rachel made herself a target and was arrested.

         Going to work without hindrance and slightly tainted conscious, he went to work knowing coming home would be less stressful.

          Blue officer inquires why he trough his daughter in front of a bus.
     
          Blank, dark to black eyes looking forward, coldly saying: Bus? Nope, tossed her ass infront of a freightrain off Bagley road.






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        Is this of personal vein or is it not. You decide.

        I will not condone dealing to minors.

        The worst kind of predator possible is one that makes the seriously younger have an addiction. Regardless of what that addiction is, they do deserved to be Narc’d on.



        Mark William Darus 07092012

2 comments:

  1. " The worst kind of predator possible is one that makes the seriously younger have an addiction. Regardless of what that addiction is, they do deserved to be Narc’d on. "
    I could not have expressed this better, Mark!

    ReplyDelete
  2. My God! Meth is problem here, well known.
    So sorry to read this. I know you and others knowing you. I decide where this comes from! You must hurt profoundly as writing entry.
    -Irina

    ReplyDelete