Why do I, pathologically lie?

Welcome back my friend!

I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. I mean, I figure by this time you could be called that, right?

Well anyway, I know our last conversation wasn’t too exciting and I am sure it was boring as all get out for you. Sorry, I know that life isn’t that action packed slow build into the crescendo.

Well, at least mine hasn’t been.

So, I decided to let you chose which way we will go this time.

Yup, after my pops got arrested for getting hit by my drunk mom, well they got divorced, and though my mother was just a block away. Well, alcohol won out so she was unconscious most of the time. Like I said, my dad made decent money before the failed business venture.

Well, that and a drunk wife that couldn’t help with the kiddos.

Honestly, I learned a lot because of that, actual good things. Cooking, cleaning, how to sew, etc etc. Had too.

Sorry, got distracted by the good memories. Back to the choice we go.

So, both paths start the same way, and oddly enough both end the same.

Shall we talk about my decent into drugs and gangbanging, or shall we talk about when I forced a girl to give me my first handy?

What? You seem surprised by that last. I mean I beat my mother, why wouldn’t I force a girl to give me a handy at the tender age of fourteen-ish?

You seem to not understand, she deserved it.

Ok you know what, forget the drugs, we are going down this path because you seem to have decided on something without hearing my side. Damn courts of social media.

I am going to set the stage for you.

My mother lost the last court case and my dad got custody of both my sister and I.

Enter my new choices. Friends!

I found a few good ones. Those who played football, did scouts, church even. You see, up to this point I did all that shit.

I think after watching my dad struggle to get by while doing all he could, then get arrested for being honest, it all just sort of broke something in my head.

Not broke, but changed the way I view the world; people, things, pets(don’t worry I never hurt an animal)

So I found some good friends. The issue was each one always lead me to someone worse, someone they don’t normally hang out with, more an acquaintance.

And down that slippery slope I go.

The group I was with was the group in school you didn’t mess with. AKA there was the question of why any of us were allowed in public school. I started hanging with a few of them before the divorce, but after it I was involved.

I mean why wouldn’t I be? Here I was, with a group of kids that did literally almost anything we wanted. Fights? Yup, and I laughed when I got suspended.

No, not because I didn’t give a fuck about the system.

I cared a lot about it. About how broken it was.

The school system?

Everything man!!

I would literally go up to a kid in school, knock his ass out for no reason. His friend would defend him, and then by the time it was broken up you know what happened?

That’s right, we were ALL suspended. Fuck, I mean if the kid I knocked out and the hero friend are going to get kicked out for a few days also..

Why the hell would I chose to be either the kid who was out cold, or the Hero who was now at home for doing what was right?

Teen me? Choice was easy, especially with what I had seen in just the last year at home.

So yeah, I started hanging with the wrong crowd. We drank, thanks to my mom we had an almost endless supply of booze. Good stuff too.

We skipped school, got into fights. At this point I hadn’t gotten into drugs. Two things happened same time basically.

One day, my good friends and I had skipped school because we wanted too, and also one of our friends parents were out of town for the next two days.

So shit, yeah I went and grabbed some booze, and we all met up at his place. Now the thing is, we weren’t all boys. Nope we were an equal opportunity jackass group.

Or so I thought.

I mean, one of the ones I actually feared was this girl in our group. And everyone respected her.

At the time, didn’t realize it was more for her two older brothers who were in juvie. We will meet them later in this series if it continues.

So here we are, a group of six, luckily evenly matched males to female.

Why lucky, I ask?

Well because we played strip poker while drinking.

So here we are, drunk and playing, and oddly enough none of the boys had lost much. Well, I knew how to stack the deck. Yup, that was me.

Now, most of us didn’t care. The girls seemed to want to take them off. Well all but one, Mika.

She was fairly new to the group, and I had never met her before this. Well, apparently, since she didn’t know me, didn’t know my place in this ‘lose’ hierarchy (that flowed almost weekly depending on who was on house arrest, or just grounded we were only fucking kids after all).

She got mad when she was down to just her last piece of clothing. Called me out.

We were drunk so I wasn’t about to take that from this tiny, if cute as hell, girl. I got up and told her to shut the fuck up and never try that shit with me.

Now, she did what I think most might have. She didn’t know me, I was standing over her, mad, drunk, and much bigger than her.

She punched me right in the balls.

You ever looked at the sun right as it comes from behind an eclipse? Me neither, but damnit if I didn’t swear that is what it looked like at that moment. I couldn’t see shit.

All I know is several minutes later I come too and see the girls all staring at me, the guys looking at me, somewhat laughing, somewhat shocked.

And the bitch responsible for the pain and the humiliation. Yup, she was smirking and getting dressed.

Nope, that wasn’t going to be the end of this.

I am not sure if it was the liquor counteracting the pain and canceling each other out. Whatever it was, I was suddenly sober. And if she thought I was dangerous when drunk, nope. I have never been dangerous while drunk, I saw my mom.

I was always the most dangerous when stone, cold, sober.

I always tend to forget what I do when like that. I remember what a jackass I am when drunk.

Well, from what was explained to me. I grabbed her by the hair and started slapping her around, hard.

By the time I was done she was crying. That is what I remember the most, this tiny girl crying on the ground, blood on her face, the other girls looking at her with fear, and me..

I thought at the time it was respect, I thought it was natural after showing my dominance. Only, even the guys looked shocked and, well a little scared.

I acted like I meant to go that far, I only meant to slap her once. Like my mom though, I couldn’t stop.

So, I told her next time she thinks about touching my dick it better be to stroke it not punch it.

Trying to keep up the act, as I limped into the kitchen for some ice. The pain was returning, and the liquor wasn’t stopping it.

So, there I am, in the kitchen, pack of something dumb like peas pressed to my crotch when in comes Mika.

Her eyes are red, bruised face and busted lip cleaned up, but clear as day that she got beat.

She says only two words. “I’m sorry.”

Next thing I know she is doing what I told her to do.

See I though this was right. In my teenage alpha male brain, my mind said she knew her place and this was to make up for that.

It wasn’t until later when I realized that this is what we made her think her place was. I wasn’t the only one to use her like this, but I always thought she did it because she wanted to.

No, no I won’t lie to you like that.

I knew. I knew what I was doing was wrong. What WE were doing was wrong. Didn’t matter to me, because I kept telling myself those lies. So therefore, it wasn’t wrong.

She never did more than hand jobs, and after a few months her parents had to move again and that was that.

How do I know that I knew what I was doing was wrong? I am glad I asked.

Because after she moved away, I never raised my hand to a woman. Not ever. Even had one try and kill me and I didn’t do anything but disarm her.

So yeah. I never forced her, nor drug her, had she not given me one I wouldn’t have thought another second on it or her. Because I wouldn’t have known. She came and did it for me.

Because she was afraid. Because she was in a place where others HAD forced her. Because of what I had done to her, I was no better than them. So, perhaps in her mind, to forestall another lesson or whatever. She just offered herself.

That I didn’t know back then, I didn’t think on it. I knew she wanted to fit in, and knew that she did this for others. She seemed to enjoy it.

But I think that was me lying to myself. She was older than me, but still, we were only teens.

Anyway, think it is time to go hit the bottle or the sack after this conversation.

So Hardey signing off here, stop by again and we will go down that other path.