Broken Home

By Jeremy Johnson

The story focuses on a very important issue in domestic violence. The story is told from the point of view of a young man named Daniel. During the course of the novel, we meet his sister Elizabeth, their mother Louise, and her husband Stanley. Stanley is addicted to drugs and alcohol. He is willing to sell off priceless family heirlooms just to get his next high. These addictions cause him to beat his family mercilessly. Stanley uses anything he can get his hands on to cause terrible pain and suffering to his family. The justice system can’t seem to keep him locked up so he can’t hurt anyone, and the state agency that is supposed to help protect the family from him fails them miserably. As a result, Daniel sees it as his duty to protect them all from his dad so he weight trains to become as strong as he possibly can. Daniel wants revenge on his dad for everything that he has done to him, his sister, and their mother. But when he gets the chance to exact that revenge... will he greet revenge like an old friend? Or will he give his father what he doesn’t deserve... mercy and forgiveness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy Johnson
• Release date: May 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463285510

Book preview

BROKEN HOME

A Novel of Fiction

By

Jeremy Johnson

© 2018 Jeremy Johnson

Cover Photo Provided By Pexels.com and Pixabay.com

Cover Text Effect Created By Jeremy Johnson

Edited by Joyce Johnson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, journal, or Internet website.

All characters, names, locations and scenes are products of the writer’s imagination. Any similarity to real events, locations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with others, please do so by purchasing additional copies from smashwords.com, or through other ebook retailers. Thank you for respecting the hard work and long hours it took to bring this book to you.

Contents

Chapter One: Welcome to My Life

Chapter Two: Welcome to Our Broken Home

Chapter Three: Lies and an Unexpected Friend

Chapter Four: The Hidden Items and the Belt Incident

Chapter Five: Destruction and a Promise Made

Chapter Six: Enter Child Services

Chapter Seven: The Coma and the Conviction That Meant Nothing

Chapter Eight: A Child’s Rage and the Man Who Didn’t Care

Chapter Nine: The Unspeakable Act

Chapter Ten: The Ending I Never Expected

Chapter Eleven: Happy Birthday Daniel

Chapter Twelve: The Experiment That Failed

Chapter Thirteen: The Life Changing Decision of Child Services

Chapter Fourteen: The Separation Begins

Chapter Fifteen: Visitations and a Second Family

Chapter Sixteen: The Bully and My Changing Sister

Chapter Seventeen: My First Trip to Church

Chapter Eighteen: Christmas Blessings

Chapter Nineteen: The First Four Letters

Chapter Twenty: The Meeting

Chapter Twenty One: Going Home

Chapter Twenty Two: The Dinner and the Last Four Letters

Chapter Twenty Three: The Unexpected Funeral

Chapter Twenty Four: Revenge or Reconciliation

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Connect

Fight Night

About the Author

Chapter One

Welcome to My Life

Whoever said that time heals all wounds had no idea what they were talking about. My life has been nothing but trouble from the beginning. I don’t even know if it’s possible for anyone to heal my wounds. There are too many to count and I stopped counting years ago. I was forced, by the actions of one man, to grow up much faster than I was supposed to. I felt it was my job to be the protector of my family even when I lacked the size and strength to do so. While other children were running and playing in the park with their friends, I was always on guard for the next attack. Even at a young age, I had hate, rage, and intense anger running through my body. All of these emotions were directed at one man and one man only. This man robbed me and my beautiful sister of our childhoods. He destroyed his marriage and his relationship with his parents. This is my life such as it is. It is true that in the midst of everything that I was forced to endure, there were rays of light that were allowed to shine brightly in my life. But, every time the light came through, it didn’t seem to say long. There always appeared to be more darkness than light in my life. When I was younger I tried to blame God, but then I realized that I was putting all this at the feet of the wrong person. So, please allow me a little of your time and I will tell you a story of abuse that just kept getting worse from one day to the next.

My name is Daniel Curtis Graham, and at this moment, I am on my way for a little father/son time. But this won’t be a heartwarming, feel good, makes you teary-eyed and happy kind of moment. I am on my way to meet my dad so that I can exact my pound of flesh for years of physical and emotional abuse. I have had many years to store this up, and now it is time to unleash it on the man who is responsible for tearing my family apart. My mother was supposed to be the love of his life, but he caused something to happen to her that I will never forgive him for. His daughter, my sister, loved him unconditionally. She was attached to him like many daughters are to their fathers. But he took her unconditional love, and he turned it into hate and rage. She is doing much better now, but I am sure she will never be the same again. He claims that he has changed, but I’m not sure that I buy it. It could be a setup because he knows that he can no longer push me around so easily like he did all those years ago. I am beyond frustrated at a justice system that couldn’t keep him in prison despite his lengthy sentences from the court. He should have had to die in prison, and yet they kept letting him out to do it over and over again. I am angry at child services for making all of our problems out to be moms fault. They were supposed to protect us from dad and all they did was make the problem worse. They said that mom was a bad mother and they took no responsibility for their own failures. The only exception to that is our caseworker Renee. She is a blessing that I will forever thank God for. My patience is long gone. My hate and anger can’t be kept in check any longer. My dad is an animal, and I am going to put him down like the rabid dog that he is.

I have a present for my dear old dad. No, make that several presents. These presents can’t be unwrapped but I’m going to give them to him whether he wants them or not. What I have for him can be described by two numbers, four and five, as in forty-five caliber. That’s right; I have two bullets with his name on it. I know it will easily get the job done, but I’m also bringing a knife just in case I change my mind as it relates to his method of death.

Now I know you’re asking how a man can want to shoot and kill his own father. If you had my father you would understand. So, grab a chair and get comfortable because this is going to take a while.

I was born in 1996. My mom is a very beautiful lady by the name of Louise. My dad, if you can call him that, goes by the name of Stanley. I have a beautiful and intelligent younger sister Elizabeth Mary Graham.

My dad never spent much time with me or my sister, at least in a positive and fatherly way. My dad had two loves, and neither one of them was my mother. His first true love was alcohol. It didn’t matter if it was beer, wine, or something a little more… intoxicating. His second love is drugs. It never mattered if he had to smoke it, snort it, or inject it. If I had stock in plastic or a straw company, I would be a very rich man. I think you know what I mean by my previous statement.

Let me take you back to the first moment when I was introduced to my dad’s habits.

It was 2004. I was too scared to sleep because of the loud thunder, the flashing lightning, and the sound of the rain bouncing off the roof of the house. On top of that, my mom and dad were having a shouting match downstairs in the living room.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Sitting on the sink was a cotton ball, a bottle of alcohol, and two syringes that were loaded with something I couldn’t identify. It is obvious to me now that my mother had interrupted something. I was too young to understand what that might have been.

They were yelling louder than I had ever heard them yell before. I slowly walked towards the living room. The closer I got, the louder the yelling got.

I looked over the banister and I saw my dad wearing something that resembled a thick rubber band. It was the kind of rubber band that they put on your arm just before a nurse or doctor draws out your blood. I didn’t know what it was at the time.

My dad was extremely red in the face. The veins were popping out on his forehead and on his neck. There were empty beer bottles all over the table and floor along with partially eaten food. That is the moment when I was able to hear what my parents were saying.

You are going to destroy our family and you don’t even care!

Shut your mouth woman!

Or what? What are you going to do if I don’t shut up?

Don’t try me woman! Just keep your mouth shut and go back to bed.

So you want me to ignore the fact that you are snorting and injecting most of our money? I just thought things were slowing down at work. It turns out I was wrong. Our cash flow is still the same only now it is going up your nose and into your arm.

Woman… I said don’t…

Don’t what? What are you going to do when the lights go out because we didn’t pay the bill? What will you do when we can’t pay the mortgage and we get thrown out? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man!

You think it’s that easy to stop? I’d like to see you try!

You never tried! All you ever did was make excuses as to why you couldn’t stop! The truth is, you never wanted to stop or you would have found a way. Life throws you a few curve balls and you want to hide behind your needles and your white powder! I can’t take this anymore! I’m taking the kids and I’m leaving! You don’t deserve me or the kids.

If you leave, I promise you, I will hunt you down like a dog. I will hunt you down and I will kill you. I will snap your neck in two like a twig. You are my wife and you go nowhere without my permission.

You know, YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL! I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY! WHEN YOU ARE BURNING IN THE FIRES OF HELLYOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF. DON’T PUT THIS ON ME OR THE KIDS. YOU MADE THE DECISION TO GET HIGH AND YOU CAN MAKE THE DECISION TO STOP. BUT YOU WON’T BECAUSE YOU ARE A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MAN.

At that moment, dad got a smirk on his face. Oh come on, let me share this experience with you.

What experience would that be? Would that be the experience where you would turn me into a junkie just like you?

From the banister, I could see my dad making his hand into a fist. I had never seen him this angry in the short time I had been alive. He was close to snapping and I didn’t want him to hurt my mom.

I slowly crept down the stairs but apparently, I made too much noise because my mom and my dad saw me and temporarily stopped yelling. My dad’s chest was heaving up and down at a rapid pace. If it was possible for someone’s blood to boil, at that moment in time, my dad’s blood would have boiled. As I stood there watching him, I knew this wasn’t normal behavior for a man and his wife. I also thought something bad was going to happen to my dad just because of how red his face was and how hard he was breathing. Now that I know the kind of man that my dad is, I wouldn’t have been too upset if something had happened to him that night. My mom, sister, and I could have has as close to a normal life as possible without having to concern ourselves with that waste of space who never knew the true meaning of the word husband or dad.

Daniel honey, what are you doing out of bed?

I can’t sleep.

Why? Did you have a bad dream?

No.

Then what was it, sweetie?

I heard you and daddy yelling at each other.

Oh, I’m sorry honey. I think I’ve said all that needs to be said to your father. Come on dear; let’s get you back to bed.

My mom turned her back on my dad. That was a mistake that she would later regret. My dad grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him once again.

DON’T YOU EVER TURN YOUR BACK ON ME AGAIN WOMAN!! I AM YOUR MASTER AND YOU WILL SUBMIT YOURSELF TO ME!!"

Boy, you think you know someone. Why this stuff never came out when we were dating I may never know. You have two choices, my dear. You can either remove your hand from my arm or you can face a much greater pain.

My mom has always been a strong woman and she never backed down from my dad even at his worst. She tried to force herself from his strong grip. That is when he backhanded her across the face as hard as he could. That slap echoed through the room.

I shouted MOMMY, MOMMY as I ran to her. She was on her knees on the floor, her hand pressed to the spot where he had hit her. Through the gaps in her fingers, I could see part of a large hand print on her face.

LEAVE HER ALONE DADDY!

What are you going to do about it you pathetic little brat?

Daniel, said my mom, go back to bed, please. This is between me and your dad. I don’t want you to get hurt.

Listen to your mother boy! Don’t make me slap the taste right out of your mouth.

DON’T YOU EVER THREATEN HIM AGAIN YOU WASTE OF HUMAN SKIN!!

My dad forcefully pulled her off the floor and backhanded her on the other side of her face.

As my dad was laughing at my mom he asked her, If I am a waste of human skin, what does that make you for marrying me?

I don’t know what that makes me but I do know that I will never be half as pathetic and dim-witted as you are.

My mom was a fighter and I think that angered my dad to no end. Now that I understand his words more than I did then I can tell that the drugs were making him think that he was the king of the world and everything in it. The way he kept calling her woman and referring to himself as her master tells me that the drugs had him thinking that she was nothing to him. The drugs had become the most important thing in his life. Me, mom and Elizabeth had only become three obstacles that stood in the way of his next fix. My dad looked at me with more anger and hate than I had ever seen before. His face had never been that red, and I was afraid of what he was going to do. I was frozen in place and that only made him angrier. It was as if he thought I was challenging him and his authority.

I am going to tell you again boy, get back upstairs or you will live to regret it. My patience is already razor thin right now. Don’t make things worse than they already are.

Go on Daniel; go back to your room. I’ll be alright.

But he’ll hurt you, mommy. I don’t want him to hurt you.

It’s OK dear.

I knew that mom was not going to back down because she would have already done it long before this. Had she planned on stopping she would have taken me by the hand and led me back up the stairs and into my room to tuck me into bed. My mom took her fist and punched him below the belt. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where she hit him. My dad howled in pain. He took his fist and punched her in the face. Tears began to fall down my face.

You stop that crying boy or I will give you something to cry about.

Stop hurting my mommy!

Or what? You are a scrawny, whiny, pathetic excuse for a son. You have no idea how many times I wished you weren’t my son.

I don’t know if it was the adrenaline running through my body or what I had just seen him do to my mom, but I had to say or do something. I had to distract him long enough for mom to get up off the floor. I DONT CARE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!

I hate you too boy. What’s your point?

I wish you were never born!

Newsflash genius, if I had never been born there is a good chance you wouldn’t have been born.

I DON’T CARE! I WANT YOU TO DIE! DO YOU HEAR ME? I WANT YOU TO DIE!

It was at that moment that I made a very critical mistake. I ran towards my dad swinging my little fists and kicking my legs at him. But I was nowhere near strong enough to do much damage. He easily swatted me away like a fly on the wall. When his fist made contact with my stomach, I felt great pain. All the air felt like it was leaving my body. I was heaving and gasping trying to draw air into my little body. My dad walked over to me and kicked me in the gut. I screamed as loud as I could. I had never felt that kind of pain before that night. And I hoped that I would never feel it again, but it would prove to be a hope that would be easily destroyed. As I lay writhing on the floor, I wondered why no one was coming to help us. Someone had to have heard next door or across the street. For that matter, someone had to have heard all the way down the street with all the noise that we were making. I expected the police or a neighbor to kick the door down at any moment and beat my dad to within an inch of his life. But no help ever came.

I saw, through my own pain, that my mom was crawling across the floor. I didn’t know if she was crawling away from my dad or if she was crawling towards something. My dad didn’t seem to care what she was doing.

With sweat pouring profusely down his face, my dad took another needle that I hadn’t seen and stuck it into his arm. He left the needle in his arm for a few seconds and then set it down on the coffee table. He kicked my mom a couple times in the gut and then sat down on the couch. His breathing was still very heavy.

Look at my pathetic excuse for a family, he said to himself, I have a wife who can’t take orders and a son who is weak but tries to be tough.

A few minutes later my sister came downstairs.

Daddy, what’s going on?

His tone with her was much softer. Oh, nothing baby. Don’t worry about them. They will be just fine.

What happened? Are they hurt?

No sweetheart, they’re not hurt. They just tripped and fell on the floor. Right now they are taking a short nap.

On the floor? That’s a funny place to take a nap isn’t it daddy?

When they fell on the floor they got really tired.

Should we wake them up?

No, they’re fine where they are. I’ll wake them up in a few minutes. But I want you to go back to bed.

OK daddy, I love you.

I love you too angel. I’ll see you in the morning.

I lifted my head off the floor. That is when I noticed that my mother had something in her hands. I didn’t have a clear view of what she was holding but it looked heavy. Many years later, she told me it had been a glass vase. I had always worried that I would accidentally knock that vase on my foot. I always thought I would do more damage to my foot than to the vase. I was only a few seconds away from finding out that the vase could be broken.

My mom looked at me as she stood behind my dad as he sat on the couch. She touched her index finger to her lips which I knew meant that I was supposed to be quiet so I put my head back down on the soft carpet.

A few seconds later, I saw and heard the vase break over my dad’s head. He didn’t even have time to yell out in pain before he fell on the floor. His eyes were shut but his breathing was still too heavy and too fast.

Mommy, is he dead?

No honey, he’s unconscious.

What’s that mommy?

He’s in a very deep sleep right now. It’s kind of like what the bears do in the winter.

When will he wake up?

I don’t know dear.

What made him so mad?

I don’t know that either dear.

That was a lie; I just didn’t know it at the time. I don’t know if she thought I couldn’t handle the truth or if she just didn’t want to burden me with it.

Are you OK Daniel?

Yes, mommy.

That was a lie too but I don’t know if she knew it and she just chose to say nothing.

It is very late. I want you to go back to your room and go to bed.

But what about dad? What if he tries to hurt you again?

Don’t worry, mommy will be fine. When daddy wakes up, I doubt he will remember much of anything. Now go on, go to bed.

OK, mommy.

As I started to walk up the stairs my mom began to sweep up the broken glass. I sat in my bed unable to sleep. I listened closely for any sounds that would tell me what was happening downstairs.

My dad woke up several hours later complaining of a major headache. I think my mom was wrong. I think my dad did remember everything that had happened before my mom knocked him out. But he ignored mom and that was better for everyone.

I didn’t know what he was injecting himself with or why he was doing it. However, it made me sad that he would rather use this stuff than spend time with his family. He would rather inject himself with who knows what than pay his bills.

This was only the first time that something like that had ever happened. However, it wouldn’t be the last. Each occurrence would get progressively worse. Eventually, my sister would be brought into all this and she would wish, beg, and plead that it had never happened. There would be many times when I would be powerless to stop it from happening. My dad was bigger and stronger than me. But those days are long gone. Now I am bigger and stronger than him and I bet he knows it especially after I had a brief conversation with his brother. His brother has always sided with him no matter what he did or how bad it was. The reason is that both of them turned into drug addicts. His brother claims to be clean, as does my dad, but this could very easily be yet another trap to try and lure me into another beating. Dad knows that I’m coming for him because his brother gave me his address. But he doesn’t know when I’m going to show up or what I’m going to do once I get there. But I do and I’m going to do this on my terms and my way. I can’t wait to see the look on my dad’s face when he opens the door and finds me standing there. If he thinks this is going to be a happy reunion then he is sadly mistaken.

I am on my way to make sure that my dad is no longer among the living. I am going to take him out if it is the last thing I do. I have had to store these emotions inside for all these years and I am finally going to let it out as I take all the life right from his body. I never wanted any of this for my family. I wanted to have a happy and healthy mom, dad and sister. And for a brief time that’s exactly what I had. We went out for family dinners, to see movies at the local theater, and to the park to play catch. But then dad got hurt at work and everything changed. That’s when the lies started. That’s when he became very secretive about certain things in his life. This is the time when it didn’t take very much to make dad angry. At first, he tried not to hit me but then he reached a point where whatever was taking over his body could no longer be controlled. I have no idea why he was able to restrain himself from hitting Elizabeth for as long as he did, but eventually, his little angel would enter into a new world of fear and pain.

I have assembled everything I need to get the job done but I will always have my scars and my healed broken bones to remember him by. I can’t say I will miss him though. When they throw his dead body in