Me, Myself, Her, Him, They, and I

Meet Myself

I guess technically this was my first other. Of course, I refer to myself as an other as well. Up to interpretation, I suppose. 

Now I never named them myself. They told me their names. I have my opinions but they like what they like. My very first is named Marco. He is a sweetheart. 

I don't remember the events that triggered our meeting. But once I got older I was told. It was a few months before my sixth birthday. Maybe three? My father had come home drunk. Something they took great care to hide from me. Apparently it was a  common occurrence. Maybe he was ashamed? Or maybe my mother was just angry? That night he had come into my room swaying. He could hardly stand up straight. 

What's that look on your face? Oh. It's not one of those stories I assure you. 

It wasn't very late because I was still up playing. It was definitely night time though. He sat on the floor next to me. Didn't say much but even while sitting he swayed back and forth. To this day the smell of alcohol on someone's breath still makes me queasy but I've gotten better. He grabbed my favorite doll and began to play with me. He even did the funny voices. I'm not sure what happened. I was enjoying myself. But then he snapped. 

He ripped the head off of the doll. He kicked my blocks over. Fell onto my tent. He just went off. I was frozen. He broke whatever was in reach. So many dolls missing limbs. Chunks of stuffing from fallen teddy bears. I didn't even scream. I was just watching this man wildly swing his arms around. Then suddenly I was in darkness.

I was sitting in the dark on the floor. Hardwood. Then a man walked toward me. A teenager, really. He smiled at me and held my hands. He pulled me up and we started running. Slowly the darkness turned into a flower field. Oh, it felt like we played all day. I had forgotten all about the crazy man before known as my father. He played any game I asked for. Even made up a few of his own. Oh, I had the best time.

When I came back to my room it was morning again. There was no mess to be seen. I was gently tucked in. I got up slowly and tried to recall how I got to bed. I remember the smell of alcohol and wanting to hurl right then and there. Of course, I didn't know it was alcohol then. I remember being so sad that I would never meet the boy again. Marco. But then he spoke to me. And the whole day I had the biggest smile.

He was my opposite and everything I wished I had in a brother.