Tainted: Origins of a Psycho

Sunday Morning

March 24, 1997

Vincent (Age 6):

My breath was stuck in my throat as I watched Daddy from the backseat of the car. The vein in his forehead throbbed and he was mumbling swear words under his breath because all of the good parking spaces at church were taken.

There were only ten minutes left until services started and Daddy hated being late.  He said that it looked bad on us as a family when we didn't show up on time, especially since he was the head usher.  An usher is a guy who passes around the offering plate so that people can give their money to Jesus.  One time I asked Daddy what Jesus needed all that money for, but he spanked me instead of answering.

My butt hurt so bad that I thought I wouldn't be able to sit down for a whole month!  After that day, I figured what Jesus did with our money was His business. 

"There's a place."  Mommy said, pointing to an empty space in the back of the parking lot.

"You're a special kind of stupid if you think I'm going to park back there, Vera.  Those spots are for church hoppers and guilt ridden sluts.  The head usher deserves a spot next to the pastor."

"But all of those spots are taken-"

"Did I ask for your help, bitch!?"

Mommy's eyes fell on her lap and she shook her head. "No, Sir. I'm sorry."

Violet giggled under her breath and I looked at her with a frown.  She always thought it was funny when Daddy yelled at Mommy.

I hated it when he treated her badly, but I was too scared to say anything to him.  He was the boss and if I told him what to do he would punish me.

And his punishments were bad.

Really, really bad.

"Look, Daddy!  There's a spot up there!"  Violet shouted, pointing to an empty spot on the fifth row.

"Good eye, baby girl!"  Daddy praised, pulling into the spot with a smile on his face.

As we were unbuckling our seatbelts, I looked over at Violet and rolled my eyes. Daddy has always loved her more than me, and I could not help being jealous.  I've tried so many different ways to earn his love, but everything I do seems to just make him mad.   Sometimes I feel like Daddy wishes I had never been born at all.

Mommy tells me that he has a different way of showing me that he loves me.  She said that he is hard on me because he wants me to grow up to be tough like him.  I wanted to believe her, but I was sure that Daddy hated my guts.

We walked through the parking lot and made our way to the doors of the church, where we were greeted by the pastor.  He extended his hand out to Daddy and chuckled.  "Running late this morning I see, Victor."

Daddy forced a smile and shook the pastor's hand.  "Vera decided that she needed a little extra beauty sleep this morning and the boy took his sweet time getting ready."

The pastor chuckled again and ruffled my hair with his hand.  "That's alright, son.  You have to make sure you look sharp for the ladies, isn't that right?"