Ninja Lisa

Seeing the joy in my dad's eye when I handed him "the board" was a sickening feeling. As a young child, I lived the cliche. I pretty much assumed all the other kids lived like this as well. What I couldn't grasp, was why they seemed to be happy and carefree, and I felt like a boulder the size of Texas was on my shoulders. A few different things would go through my warped mind at this age. I would say I was about the age of 10 or 11 now, and had lived with dad's abuse constantly. First thought was handing him this board. I saw myself sliding down the banister of the stairway, summer-saulting through the living room, crouching tiger hidden dragon through the dining room, spinning with the board in the air until I made it into the kitchen and whacking him across the face with it until he laid on the ground! At this point I would yell, "wax off, wax on" and stand over him with 'the board" against his throat. For those of you confused by wax off, wax on, it's a reference to the movie Karate Kid. However, as you may have guessed, this was in my magical land and it gave me the courage to bring that wooden weapon to him.
Second thoughts for me at this time were these other kids who seemed so damn happy. How could they be going through what I was and still act the way they did? As if being a kid is not already confusing enough, this really did me in. I would envision these little boys and girls as demons in this world and it was my duty to destroy them all. In my faltered mind, I assumed they deserved their punishments, knowing full well that I was being beat for no damn reason. I saw myself with this magical board zapping each little Cretan with a smile on their face. They would just, POOF, disappear! If they looked miserable like me, they could join my side, the dark side so to speak. This obviously was child's play. There was never going to be MY TEAM. In the real world, these little happy people formed a malicious army, and I was their enemy.

The Board

The worst part of "the board" was having to go and retrieve it from my closet when my dad told me to go get it. I can equate it to the "dead man walking" scene. That's how I felt at the time. I would slowly make my way up the fourteen steps to my bedroom on the second floor, turn right into the first room and sit on my bed for a moment. This is when I would ponder for a minute running away, and most times, killing myself. I knew how much it would hurt the minute the cold wood made contact with my ass. My eyes would gaze over to my window, complete with the TOT Finder sticker in case of fire. This was so the firemen could find me in the event this occurred. I tried many times to peel that thing off the damn window, to no avail. I don't know what they make those with, but that shit to this day is probably still stuck half-assed to that window. However, I saw myself many times just leaping out and plunging to the earth. In my young mind, I would fall to my death and oh how my dad would regret what he had done. Looking back, or as I got older, I realized that it was only two stories so I would have just broken my face or something, and been screamed at for being an idiot and letting the neighbors in on the "little secret" of our family.
So inevitably, I would get the fucking board and take it back downstairs and hand it to my dad. As he took it from me, I swear I could see a glint of joy in his eye, a smile evolving on his face, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

My Closet

Even though I had hoped for this closet to take me away to a magical place, this was not to be. What my closet became was a safe haven from the endless barrage of beatings that I took from Sonny. You might think that I hid in my closet, but this was not the case. Sonny was a sadistic man. His form of abuse varied on whatever moved him for the day I suppose. His good old standby and his favorite tool of the trade was "the board." "The board" was a piece of wood about 2 feet long that had a handle. It was about 3 inches thick and it said, "96 tears. Lisa and George." My brother George will tell you that he did not experience the wrath of "the board" as I did, but he knew what it meant to hear dad say, "go get me the board."
Just seeing the board evoked a fear so deep to my core that I sometimes thought I would vomit. When I would hear my dad yell for me to get it for him I physically became ill. I would bring him the board, already crying as I handed it to him. This is when he would say, "stop the tears or I'll give you something to cry about." The sick bastard knew all the while he was gonna pound the shit out of me with the board, so why he spoke those words I don't know. "The board" saw many days in the way back of my closet, hidden under old shoes and clothes, hoping that it's master would forget somehow that it ever existed. Just like that magical Lisa land did not exist, nor did this fantasy.

Lakewood

Somewhere in all this mess, we moved to Lakewood, Ohio. My parents bought a house and I guess this was to perpetrate "the dream." Our house was huge. I do not mean expensive, rich people huge. I mean, built in the early 1900's huge. Lakewood is full of homes like these. Two story homes with four or five bedrooms, a full attic and full basement and large front porches. I was in the middle of my second grade year when we moved here, and coming from the duplex, this seemed like a mansion! I got to pick the room I wanted, and well, it was a fairly easy choice. Apparently the people that lived here before had a boy and a girl as well, and my room had Strawberry Shortcake border. I loved it. This was to be my hideaway. My refuge.
I had a pretty cool bed as a kid too. It was a canopy bed, and it was all done up in pink. My whole room was pink, even the carpet. Almost as if my parents were trying to CONVINCE me I was a girl! The one thing I remember vividly is that my closet was narrow and long. I could walk into the back of it and sit on the floor. This was usually my hiding place during hide and seek games with my brother. I sometimes would pretend this was the wardrobe from "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." I just knew that one time I would jump in there and be whisked away into a magical place of freedom, where I would ride away on a lion and rule the land of Lisa forever.

Fear

I wonder sometimes looking back if I really knew at such a young age what being"owned" meant. I'm quite sure that I probably didn't. What I did know was that my mind and body lived in a constant state of fear, and I always had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the feeling when you get caught doing something that you shouldn't be? That was me, everyday. The problem with this was that I never ever knew what I would get in trouble for. For instance, I threw an eaten corn cob into the garbage can without a bag, and I got beat pretty bad with my dad's tennis shoe. To this day, 35 years later, I have an issue with bag less garbage cans. Fear can manifest itself in so many ways, that you will eventually forget that you were afraid in the first place. You wake up one day angry at the world and all the fear has been displaced by food, liquor, sex and whatever else you can grab hold of. Anything to keep you feeling the "disconnection" to your true self will satisfy your anger.

Owned

It was at this point in my life I realized that I was not a "part" of something. I didn't fit into any piece of a familial puzzle, or collage. I was just a being placed on this earth for the entertainment of others. This is when the disconnection between myself and my emotions started. When I think back to this time, it reminds me of an engine's kill switch. My brain's kill switch turned off. I was repeatedly hurt by this man who called himself my father, and yet it all was acceptable to me because my switch of normalcy had been disengaged. I don't really know too much more about living on Aldene except that good old Susie and I had one last good fight. I was roller skating, on the old metal skates at that. For those of you unaware of what I mean, these skates basically looked like a cookie sheet with wheels on them. They clinked and clanked against the concrete like a hammer being smashed against brick. However, I loved skating. Susie and I had words of some sort and she pushed me down, and because of the skates, I went straight down to the ground, face first. I hit my head on the concrete and ended up with a concussion. Honestly, I have no recollection of what occurred after this, and I suppose in the grand scope of things it doesn't really matter. What I know about this is the same as what I knew then about my father. Anyone who wanted to, could hurt me and do as they wished with me without fear of retribution or me fighting back. I was not, or at least did not feel as if I was my own person. Once my father put me against that wall, he OWNED me. I realized by not fighting back with Susie, that I was facing a world that seemed to want to own me as well.

The Other Thing

The look in my dad's eye's was evident. The feeling in my gut was wrenching. I knew what was coming. I felt as if all of the air in my lungs had just been sucked out and my entire body became very warm. I began to shake on the inside. You know that type of fear that grabs hold of your skeleton bones and rattles them throughout your whole body? That's what was happening to me right then and there. He said, "so, you stole some gum huh?" I considered for a fleeting moment lying. It didn't matter, he wouldn't believe me anyways. I looked at my mother who just sat stoically on the couch. She knew all too well what was to happen next. To my bewilderment however, dad said, "I will give you a choice. You can get your ass beat or the other thing." Now, any of you who have kids will find this an easy choice. I did not know what the other thing was, and I didn't care. I had been beaten for years now and knew anything was better then that. Be very careful what you believe to be true. That is what I learned here. I told my dad I wanted the other thing. He told me to go stand in the corner by the door and face him. Wow, ok, I can do this. Then he told me to take off my clothes. How foolish I was to think "the other thing" was going to be easier to take than his belt, or shoe or whatever else he could grab. I took off my clothes and stood in the corner. I tried to put my hands over my lower area, and I will never forget his words, "no, put your hands above your head." I stood there, baring my body and soul and at that moment he owned me. I was completely and utterly defeated. I will always remember my mom's word's as well, "Sonny, close the door." See, I was standing by the front door and people could have easily seen inside. He sat on the couch and stared at me as I stood against the wall, my hands above my head, my heart and soul crushed beneath his cold dirty drunk hand.