Let me tell you a little about myself

Chapter 3

"Come down from there!," my father screams at me.

"No way," I think to myself, as I cling to the branches of the tree in my front yard. The delimma I've gotten myself into. Climbing down means facing certain doom. I figure, I can live in the tree for at least a few years. Until I'm strong enough to climb down without fear. And I think I've got a sandwhich up here somewhere.

"If you're not down here by the count of three, you're in real trouble."

As opposed to the fake trouble I've been in every other time. It's a no win situation. I don't belong on the ground. Down there, everything is huge. But from up here, the world looks like a place I could manage. If I stay in the treetop forever, I'll never have to feel so small again.

"One..."

It's never like he says it will be. I would have gotten punished if I had come down the second I had seen him walk outside. It's inevitable. I'm not sure whether punishment just follows me, or if it follows him.

"Two..."

Just the two of us. Mom is no where to be found. She's probably cooing over the new baby. Who looks just like dad. Not me. I look like the guy mom married before. I'm the off child. I always will be.

"Three..."

Well now what? He's not going to climb up here. Do I push my luck and stay? Hope that by the time I come down, he'll be a better person?

" So help me God..."

Help him, God. Make it so that he understand that I need to be up here. Make him understand the way I see the world. Make him understand the way I see him.

"Look at me!"

I'm staring off again, out through the leaves. Staring at the rooftops around me. If only I could jump from this try to the next roof, like a squirrel. Then I could jump from roof to roof and escape forever. Always flying through the air. Always just out of reach. I begin my decent. No use crying, it'll only make things worse. No use apologizing either. And no use trying to fly. I freeze up for a second when I am still a few inches out of reach. I could always climb back up, but then what? I cring.

"You're gonna get it."

I know I am. I knew I was before you said a word to me. I knew I was before I climbed nearer to the sky. I knew I was the second you had a new child to love. I knew I was when you married my mom. I knew I was when you did it the first time. By the time his hands are on me, pulling me out of the tree, I'm frantically trying to climb once more. I'm scrambling to get up and away from his grasp. I know what he'll tell mom. He'll tell her that I fell out of the tree. I know better than to argue.

"Never...

do...

that...

again..."

He punctuates the sentance with blows. I cry sliently. There's nothing else I can do. I can feel my urge to fly away wanning. I'll never go back into the tree again. I'll never fly. I'll never escape.