They say every face in a crowd has a story to tell, this is my story..

The news shows and newspapers all called it 'Road Rage'. To me that sounded like a disease, an affliction that can make you kill. A sorry excuse to take the claw end of a hammer and slam it repeatedly into the skull of a human being. In April of 1999 my little brother passed away. Doesn't passed away sound so gentle, even normal? David's death was neither. It was murder. He was found lying in a strangers driveway in a pool of blood. He had been punched, stomped and beaten over his entire body. I still have so many questions. I wrote this book at first for therapy and then for answers. I have found a few. I mainly realized l lost a brother tragically and senselessly. Like every other face in the crowd I have a story..and I want to share my story with you! PUBLICATION DATE TO BE ANNOUNCED LATE SUMMER/EARLY FALL :)

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

More from "Bristol Stomp"


I went into David’s room.  We had to take turns.  A machine breathed for him.  Wires hanging and that awful beep, beep sound of monitors.  I told him I loved him and that I would never leave him.  He was covered in dry crusty blood.  I wanted to wash him.  The nurse said that was not a good idea right then.  It was important for his brain to rest.  He had pieces of glass stuck in his face and on his hands.  I found that strange.  Why had they not removed that glass from him?  It must hurt.   How did he get glass all over him?  Was he in a car accident?   A car accident most certainly made more sense.  There had to be some confusion here.
 I wanted my son.  He was away, in Army boot camp.  David was his best friend.  My heart sank.  I did not want to give him this news but I needed him.  I called the Red Cross.  The woman told me she would have to speak to David’s doctor.  I thought, damn does she really think I would make something like this up?
 I gave her the phone number for the hospital. It felt good to be thinking of something else, to be working on something.  After speaking with the doctor the woman from the Red Cross told me they would indeed arrange to have Jimmy sent home.  This is really bad, I thought.  If they were sending Jimmy home from the Army, it is bad.  I did not know what else to do.  I was so tired.  I thought of my job.  It was still early but I thought I better call my boss.  I worked in Advertising at the Bucks County Courier Times.  The news paper, I thought, one of the reporters may know what happened.  I would have my boss check with the news room to see if they knew what had happened.  Then I remembered it was Saturday.   I went back into the waiting room, sat down and closed my eyes.  I wanted to go to sleep and wake up from this horrendous nightmare.
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            The night before, I thought, seemed like ages ago.  I had been out been out with my daughters, Joan and Heather.  Joan had been going through a separation and Heather was just so busy with her son Kyle.  I had just broken up with my boyfriend and was feeling really bummed.  My girls and I never seemed to spend any time together unless it was with babies.  So, we decided to go out, just the three of us.
            As soon as we walked into Michael’s Café, the local singles, dancing, drinking establishment, off to the left sitting at a table was a psychic.  Let’s do it, we decided.  So before we even ordered our first drink we were sitting at a square table with a large bald man.  I cannot remember his name.  Heather went first.  For her it was all good news.  She would stay with her husband Matt, forever.  Kyle, her baby who was born with special needs would do well.  Joan went next.  Here is where it got strange.  It got very strange.  He held her hand, tightly it appeared.  He looked her in the eye and said to her, if something happens I want you to promise me you will crawl under the car, just remember that.  Remember to crawl underneath of the car and you will be safe.  We were firing questions at him that he did not answer.  He was making me really nervous and a little mad.  I’m sorry he said I just feel violence all around her, but she will be okay.  He then asked Joan who Steve was.  I do not know anyone named Steve, she answered.  Well, my mother’s friend Tina has a son named Stephen, he is young, just a little boy.  No the man said, not that one, this one is someone you were interested in romantically.  We all laughed.  Steve was a guy Joan had been interested in when she was a teenager.  He was the brother of Wally, who was the original drummer in Dave’s band.  We all laughed.  I have not seen him in ages, Joan said.  You will bump into this Steve this weekend, he said.  We really got a laugh out of that.  It would be interesting to say the least if she did run into Steve.  Feeling a little bit better, we moved onto my turn.  I wanted to know if I would get back together with my boyfriend.  Not this weekend, he answered.  Will I ever get back together with him?  If you do, it will not be right, he is not the one for you, he said.  When will I meet the right one for me, I asked?  Not this weekend, he sort of whispered.  We left that psychic with very strange feelings in our stomachs.  We found a table and ordered some appetizers and drinks. 
The music was loud.  The people were loud.  I wondered why I decided to bring these young girls to this middle age meat market.  We did not stay long.  That crazy psychic just made us uncomfortable.  We decided to call it a night.  Heather and Joan did not even want to stop at the diner.  That made me a little sad.  Heather went home to Matt and Kyle and Joan went home with me.  After what that psychic said I was glad she would be home with me.  We were quiet during the ride from Bensalem to Fairless Hills.  It was then it dawned on me.  I knew that guy, that psychic.  He had come to my house in Bristol, like fourteen years ago to do a party.  I wished I could remember his name.  Back then he told my friend Pat that she was going to have twins, when she was older.  At that time Pat had two little boys who were in school.  She laughed and said she was not going to have anymore.  Well guess what?  She did.  They thought she was going to have twins but she had one baby boy and a tumor.  I thought of what he had told me back then.  He told me my son was going to leave me and I should let him go and he would come back.  My son did leave me to go live with his father in Erie.  It broke my heart but I let him go.  He did come back.  It took years but he did come back.  He told me my Jill would only fall in love once and would be in love forever.  He told me my kids would be fine.  They would grow up and be happy.  He told me I would not find my true love until later in life.  I thought about my friend Terry and what he told her.  Her boyfriend was cheating on her, and he was.  I was thinking about how I had not seen Terry in a long time or Pat for that matter.  It is so strange how you spend so much time with someone, you know everything about their lives and then a page turns and they are not there.  I should try to reconnect with them.  Catch up with Pat, Terry and Tina, I thought, as I turned onto Valmore Road.  I will make a cup of tea and watch some television.  I did not feel tired.  Then I saw Birna backing out of the driveway.
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10 comments:

  1. So sorry for the loss of your brother what a horrible thing to have happened.

    On another note...Wow!!You are a great writer. I wish to continue reading this. What a tease you are. When is your book out!!

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  2. A great start to whet our appetites! I agree that you are a fine writer!

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  3. Your writing, even in the face of so much pain is gent;e, yet so gripping. Bless you!

    When there's an accident like this your focus changes - radically. I really understand that.

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  4. One an intriguing post. I just want to read the rest. Like right now! I know, I know soon.

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  5. Nice stopping spot. Makes me want to read some more. I'm definitely on pins and needles for your book to be published.

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  6. Thanks for the visit. We have something in common: we are both pisces and addicted to blogging. I also can be found blogging in my pyjamas at 2:00am. I read your post, its great. Hope you get published real soon!

    Anne-Marie

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  7. Hi,

    Thanks for the visit today. You asked how they had painted the wall of the university building? Your guess is as good as mine. Its nice in the picture but it is stunning to see it in person.

    Anne-Marie

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  8. I am a new follower. This looks like a very heartfelt story. I am sorry to hear of the loss of your brother. I am also an aspiring writer. good luck with your book ( I look forward to reading it when it is published). http://plrclark.blogspot.com.

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  9. Awww! I want to read more! What happened with Joan and the advice to crawl under the car? Was the psychic right? Doreen-You're such a tease!

    Your poor brother... When is the big day?

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