As always I own nothing, make no money from this and bow before the genius that is Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady and all of the writers, actors and crew that bring the TBBT to life. Thank you.
V2 L0
His name was Edward Kendall. He was four years older, a foot taller, and 30 pounds heavier than me. As luck would have it he had also been in my home room class for the last two years. Edward spent every free moment tormenting me while we were in school. Nuggies, swirlies, indian burns, random punches in the hall were the extent of his bully's repertoire. These things I could deal with because they did not compare to the mental torture my mother had been putting me through my entire life. I was resilient. I ignored his taunts and jibes, infuriating him even more, but he had his revenge. On the day of my 9th birthday Edward's malicious nature finally broke me.
Aunt Maria had decided to throw me a birthday party (my first that I can remember). While she made the final touches to the celebration meal, Angelo, Eleanor, Michael and I went to the park. After some cajoling on our part we convinced Eleanor to get on the merry-go-round while Angelo and I spun her slowly. Unbeknownst to us Edward had a crush on my sister and choose to show it by spinning the Merry-go-round rapidly. Eleanor was terrified. I tried to stop this but Edward punched me in the stomach, paralyzing my diaphragm momentarily. I was on my knees, trying to get my breath back, when I saw that Angelo had stopped the the merry-go-round. He let go of the safety bar and was reaching for the terrified Eleanor. I tried to warn Angelo but I was still trying to catch my breath. I threw myself forward missing my target and watched as Edward waited till Angelo was leaning in far enough before he spun the wheel as hard as he could. The metal safety bar struck Angelo in the temple. Angelo was suddenly down and he was covered in blood from a scalp wound. Edward was taunting him, almost glorying in the damage he had done. Suddenly I found myself holding my bundled shirt to Angelo's temple while Eleanor ran for help. I then proceeded to tell Edward about the special part of hell reserved for Neanderthals like him. I called him a coward, a murderer, moron, any foul or derogatory word I could spit at him. He started toward me then stopped, his malicious glare faded. I heard a voice explaining in detail the penalty for hurting my family. Phrases like "mi familia" and "vendetta" spewed forth. Suddenly I realized they were coming from my mouth. He saw the hate in my eyes and it scared him. He backed up, apologizing, making excuses, trying to reinvent the events to make it an accident. I stared at Edward. His face went white and then he turned and ran for his home. All that time I held Angelo in my arms while Michael looked on in silent horror.
It seemed to take hours for the EMT's to show up. I learned later they were there within 15 minutes of receiving my Uncles call.
Even before they loaded Angelo into the ambulance I knew he would never be the same. The pupil in his right eye was open wide, he stuttered when he tried to talk, and the light from him seemed to have faded. I was so angry I wanted to hunt Edward down and beat the crap out of him. Me, who had never raised my fist in anger to anyone, wanted to kill him for what he had done to Angelo. For what he had done to me. There it was. The truth. Edward had stolen my light with the careless recklessness of a child kicking over an ant hill. He needed to pay. Edward had stolen from me something that was not replaceable. I found myself making a very guttural growl which startled Eleanor and Michael. They pulled away. Realizing that their protector, the sheep dog, was now rabid and they must be wary. Fearing to leave me alone they grabbed my hands and led me home, each taking furtive looks at the scowl that etched my face. Home to my loving Mother who took one look at my blood covered shirt and told me I should presoak it or the shirt would be ruined. No questions. Was it my blood? Who had been hurt? Just "soak the shirt". Remove the evidence that anything had ever interrupted her perfectly ordered life. That was the moment I began to hate my Mother. My need for her approval was gone and I was going to do whatever it took to get my siblings away from her. I may have only been 9 years old but I was no longer a child. My enemies list had began and doubled in under an hours time. My mind began planning my revenge. The words turned in my mind "mi familia" and then colder "vendetta".