God Dammit, Alice!

I spent most of my years growing up listening to my grandfather and grandmother arguing.  I don't remember what it would be about usually, but the ending was always the same.

My grandmother would say something, he'd say something back, and then after she responded it was always "God dammit, Alice! I'll just go on out and blow my damned head off, then you can be happy. Hell, you'll all be happy once I'm gone!" Then he'd storm off down the stairs to the basement. Occasionally he'd change it up and offer to take her with him too.

Being about 6 or 7 this was completely tragic. This was even more terrifying than when I thought my friend being grounded meant like hamburger - that scared the shit out of me...this was damn near mortifying.

I'd run to my room and hide in the corner between the bed and the wall and plug my ears and hum to myself just waiting.

and waiting
and waiting.

I'd hear the gun go off in my head a million times to try to prepare myself for what it might really sound like. I had fired a gun, I knew how loud it was. I imagined the kick back and the smell...I tried not to imagine the impact but it was really hard not to.

Eventually, as the years went by, I just kind of got used to it, and even though I would still brace myself for the sound, there were parts of me that wished that he would. 

Crouched in my corner,
thumbs in my ears,
rocking myself...
Just do it already.
Put me out of this fucking misery.
Relieve me from this pain, and filth, and shame that I live in.

JUST FUCKING DO IT!!!

He never did, but by the time he finally passed away I swear I had imagined it 1000 different ways, many times by my own hands.