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Sunday, November 27, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 15 Now it begins

The next morning I wake and Mike is no longer in my bed, in fact he is no longer in the room. I now figure that “hell, this place isn’t so bad.” 

I throw back the covers and head into the bathroom. Pausing at the top of the stairs I can hear kids downstairs at the breakfast table.

I quickly shower and head down. As I walk into the dining room I realize that I haven’t seen any staff members around the house at all. When I ask, Becky informs me that “they are all in the office having a meeting.” I shrug and figure it must be a daily thing and that soon we will see them.

“It has something to do with Mike,” Becky adds as an aside and returns to eating. “Huh?” I think to myself and I turn, walk out of the room and head to the office. There is a glass window in the office door and by standing off to the side, I figure that I can see in and they can’t see me. I can see Mike sitting in a chair surrounded by counselors; his angelic face is stained with tears. Everyone around him is hanging on his every word. One of the counselors holds a Kleenex box at the ready.

I move closer to the door and try to listen. I hear Mark say “these are very serious charges” and Diane adds “We should call the police. I am now intrigued. What could have possibly happened in between last night and today? He seemed all right last night and now he is in the office blubbering and they are talking serious charges? I move a little closer and as I raise my eyes Mike see’s me and points a finger at me. All the counselors look at the door and then right at me.

Two counselors take Mike on either side and block him. Diane crosses to the door and yanks it open, I can hear the glass rattle. “You are in deep trouble,” she says to me. Mark crosses behind her and walks up to my side. The two counselors holding Mike dance him out the door and Mark and Diane dance me in. Mike sobbing stops, he looks at me and an evil grin crosses his face. It is a brief moment in time and he is back to sobbing.

Mark pushes me into the same chair that Mike was sitting in. Diane steps in front of me. “We are removing Mike from your room for his own protection,” Diane says walking over and closing the door. “What for?” I ask. “You know, what for,” she repeats mocking my voice. “He tells us that you forced him to have sex with him last night.” “He tells us that he is scared to stay in the room with you.” He tells us that you threatened to kill him if you didn’t have sex with him.” “He claims that you raped him.”

My eyes grow wide and all the air is sucked out of the room. “He’s a fucking liar,” I scream “A fucking liar”. “Why should we believe you?” Mark asks spinning me towards him. I am now an inch from his face and I can see spittle on his lip. “Because he’s fucking lying” I say. Diane faces me, “He seems pretty upset” and finishes up with “I have to report this to the police.”

My world begins to spin. I can’t seem to find the thread of sense in this. “You will spend the rest of the day confined to your room until the police come.” “If Mike decides to press charges I don’t know what will happen to you.” Diane waves her hand and Mark grabs my arm and yanks me to standing. Then he grabs my arm and the back of my neck and pushes me into the hallway.

“I didn’t do anything,” I scream. Diane turns and closes the office door in my face. She is now standing an inch away from me but separated by glass. She begins to shake her head back and forth and walks away from me. I begin to fight for my life and Mark slams me to the floor and sits on me. He then takes his knee and presses it to my throat. “Stop fighting,” he screams the veins bulging in his forehead.
He presses his knee harder until the world begins to go dark. I stop fighting and lay there. Mark waits a good ten minutes until he is sure that I am done fighting and then he yanks me back to my feet.

To be continued…….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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