Wednesday, October 19, 2005

My Childhood Horror

Bradley was a brat. When I was 8 years old, his sister Robin was my best friend. We walked to school together, and since Bradley was only a year younger, he walked with us, tormenting us every step of the way. He ran in circles around us. He dangled any grubby thing he could pick up off the street in front of us (and that child would pick up ANYTHING.) He made up idiotic little singsong rhymes to annoy us. He was the first (sadly of many) to call me "Farty Marti," despite my lack of excess gas at that tender age. He was a nuisance extraordinaire. Next door to Robin and Bradley the Brat (which even I admit doesn’t have the ring of Farty Marti) was a vacant house. It had been vacant as long as anyone could remember. The weeds grew high and some of the windows were broken. Naturally, we assumed it was haunted. Stories grew of eerie lights and strange noises. It scared the bejesus out of me. No one dared go trick or treat there, as it would certainly lead to some gruesome demise. A few days before Halloween, I ran over to Robin's house excitedly to show her my new gypsy costume. Knocking on her front door, I allowed myself one quick, nervous glance at the haunted house. I saw. . .something. . . move inside, and became paralyzed with fear. I wanted to run, but my brain was no longer connecting with my legs, and I experienced the horror of being unable to move. Bradley answered the door as I stood there in shock, trying to force my muscles to function. I remained immobilized. Bradley glared at me and snarled, "Whaddaya want?" I didn't answer. I couldn't, so intense was the grip of paralysis. Never one to miss an opportunity to terrorize, Bradley unzipped his shorts and peed on me. That's right, he let loose with a stream of urine that saturated my beautiful new costume. Nothing will bring you out of fear paralysis like being peed on. I let out a blood-curdling scream. Bradley's mother appeared just as Bradley was laughing hideously, zipping his pants up. She took in the scene and grabbed Bradley by his ear, dragging him inside. I started running home, crying, but could hear the slap of a paddle on Bradley's behind, and paused. I stopped sniffling and turned around, and felt the sweet rush of retribution wash over me as I heard him crying louder with each "thwack!" Then, I kid you not, I heard a faint chuckle come from the haunted house. I ran home faster than I'd ever run in my life, and to this day, I think that something in that house was amused by it all.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Let me guess... as an older Bradley is led away in handcuffs there was at least one neighbor who said "he was a quiet fellow who always kept to himself... I never expected them to find BODY PARTS in his freezer!"

10/19/2005 12:02:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You shoulda gutshot him on the spot.

10/19/2005 02:08:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What a little a-hole (I think that's more fitting than 'brat' lol!) peeing on your new gypsy costume!! Grrrr...

"Farty Marti".. that's so sad! And mean!! I hereby rename you "PARTY MARTI"!!



10/19/2005 02:43:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hmmm, there just must be something about the name Brad......


10/19/2005 06:35:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

OK, I'm NOT laughing at you, but this story DID make me smile. Glad the kid got what he deserved.

10/20/2005 12:23:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow, even people in the afterlife was on your side when it came to the pee wee boy.

What happened to him when he grew up?

10/20/2005 06:45:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I so wish I had a deserted old house on the street that I live on. I can see myself already telling ghostly stories to the kids. Little kids got nothing on us adults when it comes to spinning a yarn. Then I could sit back on my porch drinking my tea and watch the kids reaction to the place.

I'd remark on Bradly but I think my fellow commentors have done an adaquite job.

The Lumpy

10/20/2005 08:10:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

He PEED on you? Sick, sick boy, probably serving time right now. Please tell me his mama either washed your costume, or bought you a new one??

Never, ever farty Marti, smarty Marti yes. :)

10/20/2005 08:54:00 AM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Thank you ALL for stopping by!

I have no idea what happened to the little booger. They moved away a couple of years later - LOL

10/20/2005 03:08:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

LOVE that story!!

10/21/2005 02:31:00 PM  

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