From Aajonus Hard Drive
AAJONUS CHILDHOOD STORY – VIOLENCE
I was raised in a household wherein all family members (5 males and 1 female) sought violence, biased and prejudiced propaganda, and hypocrisy as resolutions to almost everything. Our household was filled with fear, anger, shouting, intimidation, threats and physical abuse that too often required my visit to a doctor or hospitalization. I was autistic and could not grasp the intellectual tool of language. As a defense mechanism, I learned to mimicked sound-patterns that most often produced reactions that were as close as I could achieve to my desired response from others. I doubt that my parents entertained the idea that I was autistic. They were too ensconced in pride to have accepted that I was mentally deficient.
Every time that I did not look at my parents or siblings when they talked to me, I got slapped, hit on the head or punched. I remember the first time that I understood the Order given me to "look at me when speak to you". I was 4½ years of age. I was off in visions within my head. My father talked to me but his sounds did not distract me. Vaguely, I was aware that he was pointing to some toys that were on the basement floor that my little brother had left. He grabbed my face and crushed it as he moved my face to his. He spoke with an eerie voice that forced my eyes to look into his. He dislocated my jaw and I suffered TMJ until I was 30. I remember the first time that I understood the meaning of the sound-pattern, "I told you to listen to me!" I was aged 9 years. My father slapped both of my ears at the same time and broke both eardrums. At that point, I not only could not remotely comprehend words, phrases, sentences and intellectual concepts, I was unable to hear properly. I lost 40% hearing in the right ear and 60% in the left. (When last checked in 1993, my hearing restored to 20% and 30%, respectively.)
The two middle siblings in my family, of which I was one, were most abused. My older middle-sibling was still in diapers when I was born and resented me for taking the attention from him at such a young age. He tortured me on a nearly daily basis. We spent many hours a day fantasizing about the harm we could do to our fathers, siblings and especially each other. Both of us, especially me, frequently fought other children to release our pent-up hostilities.
Over the years the hostility had so accumulated that at the age of 15½, I was a 5'3"-walking time-bomb of vengeful hostility. I had gone from being fat to very skinny in the last 3 years. My father was about 5'7", thick, robust and strong with muscularly large arms. That Sunday morning, my father attacked me for not immediately hanging-up my church-suit. I had spread it neatly, wrinkle-free on my bed. He hit me on the head with a wooden pant-hanger 6 times rapidly. I remember a gaseous sensation that overcame my head. Blood dripped down my face and into my eyes. His yells seemed at a distance.
I lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat, and choked him. We fell to the floor with me on top. My adrenaline must have been pouring because, even though I was shorter and 50 pounds lighter than he, he was unable to free himself from my grip for at least 3 minutes. He turned blue. My mother and 12-year-old brother stood yelling at me. For the first time in my life, I had the biggest monster in my grip. All I could see was an end to my suffering and abuse. His tongue protruded and turned blue. I felt that nothing could have stopped me. Peripherally, I saw my little brother run and lunge at me. As he lunged, he punched me on my right jaw just below the temple. I flew off the floor and onto the bed with his weight and force. He was stunned and on top of me. My jaw ached (TMJ) and I was stunned, paralyzed with shock. His face reflected fear. He jumped up and disappeared.
Before I realized it, my little brother and father had run out of my room and into my brother's room. I was endowed with the feeling of power over the monster and I was not going to let the power pass without opportunity. I tried to get in the door but they had closed and locked the door behind them. They stood against the door to reinforce it. I heard them whispering behind the door. The door opened inwardly so I stepped back through the hall, family room and into the kitchen. I ran fast and forcefully about 35 feet at the door without realizing that I could be injured by an impenetrable door.
However, when I hit the door, the door and framing came off with my father and brother behind it. I had never had any athletic or gymnastic ability because I was always sickly. In this event, I had it all. With the force of my impact, I pushed the door and them into the wall across the room. I was desperate to take advantage and kill the monster and wound his defender. My unbelievable strength and power did not decrease. With each of my hands, simultaneously, I took my father and brother by the necks and threw them on to one of the twin beds in the room. They seemed to be stunned and dumbfounded with my strength and agility.
As soon as their backs hit the bed, I leapt on them and landed with one knee in each of their clavicles. I punched them simultaneously in the face. My little brother threw another punch to my right jaw below the temple. I realized he knew that that was a weak-spot. Incensed and no longer with method in my madness, I leapt off my father. I focused on hitting my brother.
My father must have gotten off the bed and picked-up a sturdy wooden chair but I did not see it. Suddenly, I felt a crushing blow to my entire back. My brother was pushing me backward away from him so I did not fall forward. The pain shot through my body like a bolt of electricity. As suddenly, I did not feel anything. I was numb and paralyzed. It was as if my head was full of bells and pressure. I had no motor control. I fell backward on to the other bed. Pieces of the chair had hit the walls, beds and floor. Peripherally, I saw my father pick-up a leg of the broken chair, raise it like a club and step toward me. My mother jumped in front of my father trying to stop him. He shoved her into the sliding closet doors. The closet doors derailed and they crashed to the floor with her.
Suddenly without my conscious intent, my body leapt from the bed, straight and stiff as a board with my hands clasped together in one big fist above my head. I landed standing in front of my club-yielding father. To this day, I do not know how I did that and how that was possible. As occurred in my imagination thousands of times though, with tremendous force and speed, my arms came down and my clasp-fisted hands landed on his nose. His grip on the club loosed and before he hit the ground, my now separated fists landed three punches to his ribs, cracking 3 ribs, and landing one punch to the jaw. Two of his molars broke-off at the gum-line. He lied motionless on the floor. The pain in my back grew and I could no longer pursue the monster. He yelled at me from the floor. I stiffly stumbled out of the house and away before the monster could recover and attack me again. I did not return home for 10 days. I learned that my father went to the hospital and had to stay home from work for 4 days because of black-and-blue eyes and nose, broken teeth and ribs.