Her Childhood Story.........
As she remembers it.....................................
Part One
She never really knew why she liked to be alone. She would just always gather her things and head for the closet. First it was the card table to set up and place just so in front of the closet door. The space in the hallway was small as the house it's self was small. She would gather a sheet to use as the tent frame. This was usually the one from her bed. Carefully placing the hangers over the sheet as she hung it in place; the tent began to take shape. She hung the sheet over the card table for the perfect hiding spot. Feeling secure, she went to gather her things. She brought her story books, her playdoh machine and her favorite thing to play with; the erector set. She loved building towers and making interesting inventions. Her imagination was endless when she was in that closet.
For her, this was her special place to be what she wanted to be. It was a place where she could not have to see her world around her and all that was going on. While she was in her tent she didn't listen to anything that was happening "out there". For this tent was her "home" inside the home she lived in. Some days her Mother allowed her to have her lunches in her tent as long as the lunch was just a sandwich. Most days her Mother allowed her to hang the tent because her Mother knew she was not bothering anyone or anything. Her Mother could get things done without having to worry about what she was up to.
Her Father never liked the tent. He would always make her take it down and tell her not to put it up again. He would always yell at her for making a mess in the hallway and for blocking the hall so that no one could walk through there. Her Father never understood her playing in the closet. Her Father would yell at her Mother for allowing this behavior to go on. She hated the sound of her father's voice. Nothing happy or uplifting ever came out of it. She cringed when she knew he was home from work.
She tried to stay quiet most of the time though she was no angel either. Looking back now she knows she was just being a kid. Like the time she was playing with the erector set and her trucks in the bedroom. It was her construction site. At her young age she had no concept of electricity and how it could hurt you. All she knew was the electrical outlet on the wall and a bobby pin were needed tools for her building that day. With the trucks gathered around and used for transporting the pieces of the erector set, she began digging in the electrical outlet. She couldn't understand why her Mother was screaming at her so much over the building she was doing.
Throwing her toys across the room to get to her wasn't fun and it scared her. She didn't like this tone the Mother had. It lead to other hurts. Only this time it was different. There were just threats for when the Father came home and found out what had been done that she would get it. Her Father never hit her. Only once or twice that she ever remembers and those never hurt like the Mother's hits did. She was scared none the less. Hiding was all she could think to do. Under the settee was the perfect place she thought. She never counted on them finding her there. This settee wasn't like any other couch they ever had. This one had elastic straps to hold the cushions in place. She held onto those straps for her dear life. She knew if they reached her she would hurt for the rest of the night. All she can remember in looking back now was how angry the Father was that he couldn't get her out from under the settee. She remembers hearing him say to lift it and get her out. They couldn't get it to move as she was holding on tightly. Then the cushions were removed and they saw what she was doing under there. She never remembers getting out and never remembers any hurts that day. Perhaps she escaped the pain that day. Perhaps it's escaped her memory because it hurt too badly. She'll never know now. She likes to remember that the Father gave up trying. Some how she learned not to ever play with the electrical outlet again. To this day she doesn't know whatever happened to the erector set.
to be continued..........................
Part One
She never really knew why she liked to be alone. She would just always gather her things and head for the closet. First it was the card table to set up and place just so in front of the closet door. The space in the hallway was small as the house it's self was small. She would gather a sheet to use as the tent frame. This was usually the one from her bed. Carefully placing the hangers over the sheet as she hung it in place; the tent began to take shape. She hung the sheet over the card table for the perfect hiding spot. Feeling secure, she went to gather her things. She brought her story books, her playdoh machine and her favorite thing to play with; the erector set. She loved building towers and making interesting inventions. Her imagination was endless when she was in that closet.
For her, this was her special place to be what she wanted to be. It was a place where she could not have to see her world around her and all that was going on. While she was in her tent she didn't listen to anything that was happening "out there". For this tent was her "home" inside the home she lived in. Some days her Mother allowed her to have her lunches in her tent as long as the lunch was just a sandwich. Most days her Mother allowed her to hang the tent because her Mother knew she was not bothering anyone or anything. Her Mother could get things done without having to worry about what she was up to.
Her Father never liked the tent. He would always make her take it down and tell her not to put it up again. He would always yell at her for making a mess in the hallway and for blocking the hall so that no one could walk through there. Her Father never understood her playing in the closet. Her Father would yell at her Mother for allowing this behavior to go on. She hated the sound of her father's voice. Nothing happy or uplifting ever came out of it. She cringed when she knew he was home from work.
She tried to stay quiet most of the time though she was no angel either. Looking back now she knows she was just being a kid. Like the time she was playing with the erector set and her trucks in the bedroom. It was her construction site. At her young age she had no concept of electricity and how it could hurt you. All she knew was the electrical outlet on the wall and a bobby pin were needed tools for her building that day. With the trucks gathered around and used for transporting the pieces of the erector set, she began digging in the electrical outlet. She couldn't understand why her Mother was screaming at her so much over the building she was doing.
Throwing her toys across the room to get to her wasn't fun and it scared her. She didn't like this tone the Mother had. It lead to other hurts. Only this time it was different. There were just threats for when the Father came home and found out what had been done that she would get it. Her Father never hit her. Only once or twice that she ever remembers and those never hurt like the Mother's hits did. She was scared none the less. Hiding was all she could think to do. Under the settee was the perfect place she thought. She never counted on them finding her there. This settee wasn't like any other couch they ever had. This one had elastic straps to hold the cushions in place. She held onto those straps for her dear life. She knew if they reached her she would hurt for the rest of the night. All she can remember in looking back now was how angry the Father was that he couldn't get her out from under the settee. She remembers hearing him say to lift it and get her out. They couldn't get it to move as she was holding on tightly. Then the cushions were removed and they saw what she was doing under there. She never remembers getting out and never remembers any hurts that day. Perhaps she escaped the pain that day. Perhaps it's escaped her memory because it hurt too badly. She'll never know now. She likes to remember that the Father gave up trying. Some how she learned not to ever play with the electrical outlet again. To this day she doesn't know whatever happened to the erector set.
to be continued..........................
posted by Just Jan at
4:26 PM
2 Comments:
i always played in tents--even into my teenage years. it was the only place that was mine, where i could be me. my toys of choice were Little People and Matchbox cars. Excellent story, I can't wait for the next part.
I had a huge closet that went from wall to wall in my room. I used one side for clothes. The other I set up with a twin bed, my stereo and incense, candles and a black light, oh and a black and white TV. I used to hang out in there as if I were in a whole different world. I was a bit older than the playdoh set. But I remember the fun.
My girls build tents and as much as it annoys me that they use the sheets and blankets, they are now old enough to put them away, so I never complain anymore.
I think this is going to be a sad story you are writing, but I look forward to the next installment!
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