Battling Demons

Chapter 14

Before going into our apartment, I took the knife from the bag, slipped it into my waist band, tightened my belt and pulled my shirt over it. My mom was on the couch reading a copy of LIFE Magazine when I walked in. I greeted her and headed for my room. She looked up and said, “Back so early, did you go to the movies?”

I stopped and said, “When I got to the Jefferson, the features I expected to see won’t be playing until next Saturday. What was playing didn’t interest me so I went into Klein’s department store and walked around looking at stuff then headed back home.”

I went to my room, took the knife out and hid it in the closet, I had no doubt that my parents would take it from me if they found out I had it. Later that night when I was sure my parents had gone to bed and were asleep, I went to the closet and got the knife. Standing In front the full-length mirror in my room I tentatively stabbed and slashed with it. Minutes later I was vigorously but quietly slashing and stabbing away at my Demons until I collapsed onto my bed exhausted. Out of breath, my body aching and tired, for the first time in a long while I felt good.

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With the knife under my pillow that night sleep came easily. My night-mare morphed into a dream of vengeance and victory over Tony’s gang. The following morning the dark cloud enveloping me had parted just enough to let some light in. I knew the mock fight was the reason I felt better, I vowed to myself I would continue doing it.

With the knife near me I felt safe and wanted it close to me when I went outside: to do that I had to devise a way to carrying it hidden and easy to reach. The knife was was too long and heavy to keep in a pocket and not secure when in my waistband. Rolling up my left trouser leg and using laces from an old pair of sneakers, I managed to attach the sheathed knife to my leg. The Jerry-rig was awkward and uncomfortable. It took several weeks of trial and error till I put together a harness that was secure, comfortable and allowed me to get at the knife quickly.

My nightly battles in front of the mirror continued helping to pull me out from the dark place I was in and I began to feel my body getting stronger. Each night before the battle I swore on my knife these words that became my mantra, If I’m ever attacked again by a gang I’ll fight, wound and kill as many of them as I can before I go down.”