Hell is for Children belongs to Pat Benitar.
I surveyed the room around me checking my siblings for visible damage. Terry sat in the corner adjacent from me cradling his left arm and Monica sat curled up against the nearest wall a small stream of blood trickling from a gash on her cheek. My eyes traced the burly figure passed out on a couch. A figure I came to call dad. I stood slowly as not to awake my dad and used a sleeve to wipe the blood from my busted lip. I walked over to Monica and held out my hand, she grasped it and I helped her to her feet. I crossed the room to Terry and placed one hand on his back while taking his right hand with the other, slowly hoisting him up. I looked at his arm with out touching it.
"Terry, it's broken. You're gonna have to pretend to break it tomorrow." I instructed him seriously. No one knew our dad did this shit to us, not even our mom, who worked two jobs and often worked at night. We immediately went to the room the three of us shared. As soon as we all entered I closed and locked the door. Taking a damp towel from the adjoining bathroom, I cleaned Monica's gash then my lip. I felt warm tears fall from my eyes as I stared into the darkness. Images of Dad looming over me seeped into my brain. These were typical thing to happen when the lights go off in our room. I occasionally heard Monica whimper letting me know I wasn't alone.
The next day Terry and I went to play roller hockey with the ducks. I winced as Fulton checked Terry into the fence. Terry screamed as his left side collided with the chain link fence. As soon as Fulton backed off Terry let himself fall to his knees. Me and Connie instantly set a course for the 10 yr. old.
"Back up!" Connie instructed as she bent down to examine Terry's arm.
"Do you know what you doing?" He growled at her flinching from her touch.
"My mom is a doctor just set still." She said calmly as she pressed different area's of Terry's arm only to be replied by different expressions of pain.
"Your arms broken." She finally said taking off his skates the her own. I copied this action. Fulton approached Terry cautiously and helped him up similar to the way I had last night.
"Terry, man, I'm so sorry." Fulton informed my younger brother. He nodded his face slightly guilty looking, I could tell he wasn't wild about letting Fulton think he had cause the damage our dad had.
"Forgive and forget." Terry replied dismissively.
"All the while..." Fulton muttered his voice trailing off. Terry just shrugged as Me, himself and Connie set off for the hospital.
Soon after we got to the hospital, mom, dad and Monica showed up and met the ducks who were waiting in the hospital lobby. When the three entered the room Terry and I didn't even bother to acknowledge them.
"Terrance, how are you feeling buddy?" Dad asked him. "Yea, I'm fine." Terry mumbled a response, shocked that this guy in front of him sounded sincere. I watched him almost amazed this calm friendly seeming young man the same evil and conniving bastard that injured us so many times. This guy was both the source of our love and our pain... which poses the question, Is there really a difference?
They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
If you truly want to know boredom take Mrs. Chansons parenting class. Some how that class turned up on my schedule.
"This is hell," I heard Chaney Williams mutter to her best friend Tamara. This is hell? Ha! She doesn't know what hell is, Hell is a suffering reign of evil. Hell is for children if you think about. Do this, Do that, hurry up, slow down. Not allowed to comprehend things by ourselves. And a lot of us getting smacked around like unwanted toys. I began to focus in to Mrs. Chansons rant only to hear one sentence.
"And you know that their little lives can become such a mess," She said in her slow steady voice. It was as if she was completing my thought, Hell, Hell is for children. For some reason and tuned in to the lecture again.
"Listen, I'm sure you're all old enough to know this," She started her eyes resting on me. "If your being abused Tell some one. you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh" Either I'm becoming paranoid or she knows, her eyes can see it... that's creepy.
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh
People have asked me where I got the cracked lip, I just replied hockey. I think that's why me and Terry became interested in hockey. We could get beat up by dad and then use hockey as an excuse. The only problem is you have minimal excuses when the hockey team asks you where you got the cuts and the bruise's. That where this whole thing gets complicated, If they don't by your lie they may turn to a sibling and if you two don't have your stories own you could get busted. It's not to bad I guess, sometimes dad apologize after, not that it really makes a difference. I guess it's just nice to know he knows who you are. I'm pretty sure Fulton knows what's happening, simply because It's happening to him to, he's just very good at hiding it.
It was Monday, Monday meant both parents at work. So Me, Charlie and Fulton walked home together. We were in my driveway when I noticed the Toyota in the drive way. Dad's not supposed to be home. I looked back and forth between Fulton and Charlie.
"Bye Guys." I said, and almost relieved when they started to walk away. Then I heard it and knew they heard it to. A loud thud and then a scream that I knew belonged to my 8 yr old sister. Automatically, they turned to me.
"Jesse, Man, what's going on?" Charlie asked.
"Nothing, Charlie so just mind your own fucking business and Go!" I shouted, before turning and running up the steps. I swung the door open and Monica sat on the floor breathing heavily.
"Sorry, Sorry, sorry baby." Dad kept mumbling. I grabbed her arm and helped her onto her feet. He looked at us and I scanned the room for Terry.
"He's at Kyle's" Monica whispered to me softly. I nodded to inform her that I heard her.
"Your daddy's good little girl, aren't ya Monica?" He asked taking an uneven step forward. She nodded kinda nervously as we took a step back. "And you wont tell mommy what happened will ya?" he asked? She shook her head no, slowly.
"And you, Jesse, You'll be a good little boy. If you are I'll give you a new toy." He said with a smile. A new toy? What did he think I am, 5? I just stared at him.
"All the two of you have to do is tell mama you," He said pointing his finger at Monica. "Fell off of the swing." He concluded.
It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Just tell Mama you fell of the swing
"Why do things have to be like this?" Monica asked me after we had retreated to our room, our safe haven.
"Because Hell," I started somberly, "Hell is for Children." I looked sadly at my petite little sister. 'She's so small, why should she have to go through this' I found my self thinking. Mrs. Chansons words coming back to me in that same passionate voice, "And you know that their little lives can become such a mess,"
"Hell," She said letting the word sink in. "Hell... Is for children?" She finally said questionably. I nodded, she kept her questioning look.
"and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh." Mrs. Chansons lecture haunted my thoughts.
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh
"Jesse, are you sure. Cuz, Preacher Harvey said that all children go to heaven, He said it last Sunday after Lissa told him little baby Morgan died." Monica said unsure. "No, Monica, Hell is for us. Hell is for children." I told her. I hated it but, I wasn't gonna let her believe something that wasn't true.
No, hell is for children
Let's face it, I don't like the fact that my life is hell but its better then lying to myself, right?
"Hell," She muttered trying to think for a moment.
"Hell is for," I started to repeat myself.
"Hell, Hell is for Hell, not for us." She yelled cutting me off.
"Hell is for children," I told her softly wiping her tears away. "But not for angels, and Baby, you're an angel." I tell her soothingly trying to stop her tears.
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell Hell is for children
As the night passed I couldn't get the conversation out of my head. I shouldn't have told her that. She's only 8 and they don't have to put up with thinking about themselves going to hell. I listened carefully to my angel's soft breathing.
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell Hell is for children
I still silently believe what I said. I'm just not gonna repeat it. Hell is for children, how ever its for some more then others. Monica doesn't belong in hell, She belongs in heaven with the rest of the Angels. I could be wrong but I don't think so. When Terry came home he came straight to our room andjust sat there feeling the mood of the room. Monica looked at him.
"Terry? Do you think hell is for children?" she asked him. He looked complexed then replied.
"Naw, Who told you something wild like that?" He asked. She looked at me carfully.
"Jesse." She said, he glared at me. Then we all just went to bed to break this awkward silence.
Hell is for children
Hell is for children
I surveyed the room around me checking my siblings for visible damage. Terry sat in the corner adjacent from me cradling his left arm and Monica sat curled up against the nearest wall a small stream of blood trickling from a gash on her cheek. My eyes traced the burly figure passed out on a couch. A figure I came to call dad. I stood slowly as not to awake my dad and used a sleeve to wipe the blood from my busted lip. I walked over to Monica and held out my hand, she grasped it and I helped her to her feet. I crossed the room to Terry and placed one hand on his back while taking his right hand with the other, slowly hoisting him up. I looked at his arm with out touching it.
"Terry, it's broken. You're gonna have to pretend to break it tomorrow." I instructed him seriously. No one knew our dad did this shit to us, not even our mom, who worked two jobs and often worked at night. We immediately went to the room the three of us shared. As soon as we all entered I closed and locked the door. Taking a damp towel from the adjoining bathroom, I cleaned Monica's gash then my lip. I felt warm tears fall from my eyes as I stared into the darkness. Images of Dad looming over me seeped into my brain. These were typical thing to happen when the lights go off in our room. I occasionally heard Monica whimper letting me know I wasn't alone.
The next day Terry and I went to play roller hockey with the ducks. I winced as Fulton checked Terry into the fence. Terry screamed as his left side collided with the chain link fence. As soon as Fulton backed off Terry let himself fall to his knees. Me and Connie instantly set a course for the 10 yr. old.
"Back up!" Connie instructed as she bent down to examine Terry's arm.
"Do you know what you doing?" He growled at her flinching from her touch.
"My mom is a doctor just set still." She said calmly as she pressed different area's of Terry's arm only to be replied by different expressions of pain.
"Your arms broken." She finally said taking off his skates the her own. I copied this action. Fulton approached Terry cautiously and helped him up similar to the way I had last night.
"Terry, man, I'm so sorry." Fulton informed my younger brother. He nodded his face slightly guilty looking, I could tell he wasn't wild about letting Fulton think he had cause the damage our dad had.
"Forgive and forget." Terry replied dismissively.
"All the while..." Fulton muttered his voice trailing off. Terry just shrugged as Me, himself and Connie set off for the hospital.
Soon after we got to the hospital, mom, dad and Monica showed up and met the ducks who were waiting in the hospital lobby. When the three entered the room Terry and I didn't even bother to acknowledge them.
"Terrance, how are you feeling buddy?" Dad asked him. "Yea, I'm fine." Terry mumbled a response, shocked that this guy in front of him sounded sincere. I watched him almost amazed this calm friendly seeming young man the same evil and conniving bastard that injured us so many times. This guy was both the source of our love and our pain... which poses the question, Is there really a difference?
They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears
Forgive and forget, all the while
Love and pain become one and the same
In the eyes of a wounded child
If you truly want to know boredom take Mrs. Chansons parenting class. Some how that class turned up on my schedule.
"This is hell," I heard Chaney Williams mutter to her best friend Tamara. This is hell? Ha! She doesn't know what hell is, Hell is a suffering reign of evil. Hell is for children if you think about. Do this, Do that, hurry up, slow down. Not allowed to comprehend things by ourselves. And a lot of us getting smacked around like unwanted toys. I began to focus in to Mrs. Chansons rant only to hear one sentence.
"And you know that their little lives can become such a mess," She said in her slow steady voice. It was as if she was completing my thought, Hell, Hell is for children. For some reason and tuned in to the lecture again.
"Listen, I'm sure you're all old enough to know this," She started her eyes resting on me. "If your being abused Tell some one. you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh" Either I'm becoming paranoid or she knows, her eyes can see it... that's creepy.
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh
People have asked me where I got the cracked lip, I just replied hockey. I think that's why me and Terry became interested in hockey. We could get beat up by dad and then use hockey as an excuse. The only problem is you have minimal excuses when the hockey team asks you where you got the cuts and the bruise's. That where this whole thing gets complicated, If they don't by your lie they may turn to a sibling and if you two don't have your stories own you could get busted. It's not to bad I guess, sometimes dad apologize after, not that it really makes a difference. I guess it's just nice to know he knows who you are. I'm pretty sure Fulton knows what's happening, simply because It's happening to him to, he's just very good at hiding it.
It was Monday, Monday meant both parents at work. So Me, Charlie and Fulton walked home together. We were in my driveway when I noticed the Toyota in the drive way. Dad's not supposed to be home. I looked back and forth between Fulton and Charlie.
"Bye Guys." I said, and almost relieved when they started to walk away. Then I heard it and knew they heard it to. A loud thud and then a scream that I knew belonged to my 8 yr old sister. Automatically, they turned to me.
"Jesse, Man, what's going on?" Charlie asked.
"Nothing, Charlie so just mind your own fucking business and Go!" I shouted, before turning and running up the steps. I swung the door open and Monica sat on the floor breathing heavily.
"Sorry, Sorry, sorry baby." Dad kept mumbling. I grabbed her arm and helped her onto her feet. He looked at us and I scanned the room for Terry.
"He's at Kyle's" Monica whispered to me softly. I nodded to inform her that I heard her.
"Your daddy's good little girl, aren't ya Monica?" He asked taking an uneven step forward. She nodded kinda nervously as we took a step back. "And you wont tell mommy what happened will ya?" he asked? She shook her head no, slowly.
"And you, Jesse, You'll be a good little boy. If you are I'll give you a new toy." He said with a smile. A new toy? What did he think I am, 5? I just stared at him.
"All the two of you have to do is tell mama you," He said pointing his finger at Monica. "Fell off of the swing." He concluded.
It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing
They blacken your eyes, and then apologize
You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing
Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy
Just tell Mama you fell of the swing
"Why do things have to be like this?" Monica asked me after we had retreated to our room, our safe haven.
"Because Hell," I started somberly, "Hell is for Children." I looked sadly at my petite little sister. 'She's so small, why should she have to go through this' I found my self thinking. Mrs. Chansons words coming back to me in that same passionate voice, "And you know that their little lives can become such a mess,"
"Hell," She said letting the word sink in. "Hell... Is for children?" She finally said questionably. I nodded, she kept her questioning look.
"and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh." Mrs. Chansons lecture haunted my thoughts.
Because Hell
Hell Is For Children
And you know that their little lives can become such a mess
Hell
Hell Is For Children
and you shouldn't have to for love with you bones and your flesh
"Jesse, are you sure. Cuz, Preacher Harvey said that all children go to heaven, He said it last Sunday after Lissa told him little baby Morgan died." Monica said unsure. "No, Monica, Hell is for us. Hell is for children." I told her. I hated it but, I wasn't gonna let her believe something that wasn't true.
No, hell is for children
Let's face it, I don't like the fact that my life is hell but its better then lying to myself, right?
"Hell," She muttered trying to think for a moment.
"Hell is for," I started to repeat myself.
"Hell, Hell is for Hell, not for us." She yelled cutting me off.
"Hell is for children," I told her softly wiping her tears away. "But not for angels, and Baby, you're an angel." I tell her soothingly trying to stop her tears.
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell Hell is for children
As the night passed I couldn't get the conversation out of my head. I shouldn't have told her that. She's only 8 and they don't have to put up with thinking about themselves going to hell. I listened carefully to my angel's soft breathing.
Hell
Hell is for Hell
Hell is for Hell Hell is for children
I still silently believe what I said. I'm just not gonna repeat it. Hell is for children, how ever its for some more then others. Monica doesn't belong in hell, She belongs in heaven with the rest of the Angels. I could be wrong but I don't think so. When Terry came home he came straight to our room andjust sat there feeling the mood of the room. Monica looked at him.
"Terry? Do you think hell is for children?" she asked him. He looked complexed then replied.
"Naw, Who told you something wild like that?" He asked. She looked at me carfully.
"Jesse." She said, he glared at me. Then we all just went to bed to break this awkward silence.
Hell is for children
Hell is for children