The Childhood of Mr. O'Connor

I never had a father.

Instead, I got some drunk who barely lived in my house – If you could call it a house… but that’s not really important. I could’ve lived in Buckingham Palace; if it were still with that man, I would’ve wound up just the same. I guess you could say I believe in that thing called ‘fate’, but I just think it sounds the most reasonable. That man ended up with me for some reason, whether it was a divine joke or a crack head’s blessing. Can’t change that.

I remember so well his drunken swagger that carried the nauseating scent of vodka and cocaine. It was like a putrid wall that constantly surrounded him – as thick as iron and nearly as impenetrable. I had always imagined myself hugging him, but I could never gather the courage – or stomach – to even get within four feet of his sickening self.

I’d hug my blanket instead.

That grubby old thing got me through some rough times. Whenever my old man would storm in my room come three o’clock in the morning – yelling at me for something we both know I didn’t do – I’d stuff that old rag in my mouth so Mama wouldn’t wake up from my screaming. At least, that’s what I would tell myself. I knew that I did it so the old man wouldn’t hear me cry.

But boy did that man beat the ever loving crap outta me. I swear, my backside must’ve been bright red for the first nine years of my life. Even as a young man I can’t look at a black leather belt without cringing. Though, looking back on the whole episode, it does have a somewhat sick and twisted humor to it: A skinny white boy in the dead of night, tears running down his flaming cheeks, gnawing on the corner of a blue and battered blanket just so he won’t make his daddy ashamed.

I put up with that man’s beatings until the day he drove off.

I don’t know why, but he came home one day and just decided that he didn’t want to be there anymore. Of course, he didn’t leave without giving my mother and me a goodbye present. Mama got a broken arm and I had a black eye as well as a chipped tooth. Regardless of the pain, I still didn’t want him to go. I fought him back so hard; he thought I was "disrespecting him". He hit harder. He didn’t see I only wanted him to stay.

Swigging down another Jack Daniels, he lurched through the front door and made his way down the porch steps. I threw myself at his feet, his God-awful feet, and I begged him not to go.

“Daddy, please don’t leave me and Mama! We’re a family!” I could barely utter the words—my throat was swollen from crying.

He kicked me off of his shoes, of course. I wasn’t really shocked—but it still hurt. And I don’t mean the bruises that showed up afterwards. Though what he said next branded itself into my very soul, completely shattering all remnants I had left of my ‘innocence’:

In a drunken haze he slurred, “From one bastard kid to another—don’t think for a second you have a ‘family’, boy.”

So that was it. He left me with the only honest thing he’d said since the day he was born. And as I stood on the front porch, clutching my filthy blanket, the only person I had ever secretly looked up to staggered into his car and drove away. Away from me.

In that damned car.

I hated that car. It just made my blood boil looking at it. Even thinking about it pisses me off—the rusted bright red paint coated in an inch of dirt, those raggedy gray tires that always seemed to be flat, that loose license plate that seemingly held on by a thread… and those seats.

Cracked and faded in the more handsome areas, those leather seats were disgusting. The back seat was by far worse than the front two. The leather was nearly shredded and the seats absorbed the indescribably harsh scent of sweat, stale beer, and vomit. Sitting back there was a nightmare. But it wasn’t really the car itself that I hated—no, it was much more than that. It was what the car had done.

Or rather, what the car had allowed.

The car allowed my father to stay out as long as he wanted, leaving my mother and me home alone. The car allowed dad to waste money that he should’ve used otherwise for the house. The car allowed him to leave.

I sit here now, thinking about these things. Thinking about my past. My life. What I’ve done, what I haven’t. Whether or not it was all worth it; the choices I made later, I mean.

Ah, man. Do I have some stories to tell about my teenage years—

“O’Connor. It’s time. Get up.”

Time to go? Already?

Well, looks like story time is gonna be cut short. Sorry, kids. The Chair is calling my name. Guess I don’t have any more time to regret all that stuff. But you know what? After all this thinking, I’ve come to the conclusion:

“Come on, O’Connor. We’ve got to go.”

Sorry about that. Let me get situated for these nice officers. They’ve been my only company for a few months now. I wonder how they feel, knowing that they’re looking at someone who’s about to die? However, now is not the time to be talking about that. Allow me to continue with what I was saying before.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I probably would’ve turned out just the same way even if my old man was normal.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

“Yessir, Officer Marsh.”

I don’t have much time left for explaining things. Dread is starting to creep into my thoughts, and I can’t think straight while I’m fussing over death.

So let me say this before I leave for good: My fate was probably sealed from the day I was born. That’s that. No matter how I grew up, or what decisions I made, I most likely would’ve ended up in the exact same way I am now.

But a hug might’ve helped.

Yay first review! I loved the way this was written and the twist at the end- there really isn't much that can be improved upon that I can see but I shall try!

I remember so well his drunken swagger that always carried with him the nauseating scent of vodka and cocaine.

If the swagger brought with it the smell of vodka and cocaine I'd change 'always carried with him' to 'always carried with it'.

Dread is starting to creep into my thoughts, and I can’t think straight while I’m fussing over death.

To me dread doesn't sound so right from what I've heard of his character, I know anyone would be scared by the thought of going to die but I think something like 'whats waiting in store for me' might be better.

I also think it might be good to hear what his father sounded like, you've got some good description on him but I think it would be really effective to know how he spoke “From one bastard child to another—don’t think for a second you have a ‘family’.”

This is a great piece of work, I found it really involving and original- brilliantly done! *star*

Owe, I wanna hug him!

This is an amazing piece. Good points first.

Even though it's really long, your variety of punctuation, and sentence and paragragh lengths, did really well to stop it from dragging.

'Even as a young man I can’t look at a black leather belt without cringing.' I like this line. It's interesting because young men are supposed to be bold and strong, but your character is admitting a weakness.

Same here - 'I’ve come to the conclusion that I probably would’ve turned out just the same way even if my old man was normal.' He completely realises his faults, and admits to them. It makes it seem like he's the last person who should be sitting on death row.

I also really like how most of this is full of bad stuff, but the last line is about a hug. The theme completely conflicts with the rest of the piece, but that's what makes it so powerful.

The way the speach and movement interupts the narration is really good too, I've not seen that before.

Is it alright to have swearing like that on the front page? I think perhaps this could do with a higher rating.

I think it might help a little to establish who's talking at the very beginning as well. I kind of had to guess as I went along whether O'conner was a girl or boy, a rough age.

Overall; awesome. Keep it up.

'Kayy so nitpicks first!

anti-pop wrote:I could’ve lived in Buckingham Palace; if it was still with that man,

I would change this to "could have"...

It was like a putrid wall that constantly surrounded him – as thick as iron and nearly as impenetrable.

A putrid wall? I don't think wall is the right word, maybe aura would work better?

But boy did that man beat the ever loving crap outta me. I swear.

I don't think this should be two sentences. Put a comma instead of the period? Or maybe even take out the "I swear"? Play around with it...

My backside must’ve been bright red for the first whole nine years of my life.

Again, change must've to must have...

But a hug might’ve helped.

Change might've to might have...

Wow, this was a really great story! It was so sad and made me want to give him a hug...I loved the ending, even though I had to read it twice to actually understand it. I could feel the boy's pain, and could relate to it. So, excellent job and gold star for you!

fluteluvr77<3

This was depressing, but really good. I liked how the story sort of flips at the end. It goes from the perspective of an innocent little kid, to a criminal on death row. I know the actual perspective never changes, but in the beginning you go "Ohh..." and feel sorry for the kid, and at the end you go "Oh!" and wonder what happened that made him some horrible criminal. A few little nit-picky things though:

I wasn’t really shocked. But it still hurt.

I think you should combine the two sentences. I don't know if you were putting more emphasis on the second sentence, but I thought that it would flow better combined.

but I could never gather the courage –or stomach

This is really more of a stupid OCD thing than an actual error. There should be another space after the hyphen. Yeah, I know, stupid. Gotta love that obsessive compulsive disorder.

Anyway, GOLD STAR!

Thanks you all so much for the reviews!
I've taken a lot of your suggestions to heart while editing. Thanks again!
I've also removed the first curse...I didn't realize it had shown up on the front page! ><


~anti-pop

Hi there anti-pop!
Nitpicks:

But boy, did that man beat the ever-loving crap out of me. I swear, my backside must’ve been bright red for the first nine years of my life.

There. That's better. Just some issues with punctuation, it sounded awkward with "first whole".

In a drunken haze he slurred, “From one bastard kid to another—don’t think for a second you have a ‘family’, Boy.”

I don't get why you capitalized "boy" here?

The car allowed my father to stay out as long as he wanted, leaving my mother and I home alone.

This line should be "my mother and me". Because if you took out the mother part, otherwise it'd read "leaving I home alone" which just wouldn't make any sense, now, would it?


That's it.
I loved the ending. It was all like, "Awww." You really feel bad for O'Connor. I mean, poor kid.
You're amazing, anti-pop. You write about the things that most people don't even want to think about, because it doesn't fit with how they see life. And maybe reading it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but that's fine. Because this is the kind of piece that you actually walk away from thinking, "Wow... That was deep."
Gold star for your awesomeness!

It was a bit choppy, but then again it's a memory so it wouldn't too detailed. I liked it-- Mr O'Connor had a voice (a real voice) and that's vital. It was sad but then again, it could have been more affecting. There could have been a sort of poeticism to it.
The transition from past to present, I think, could have been smoother. Still, I like the idea of him getting disrupted from his thoughts.
All in all, a nice read. Thanks.


Lauren

Popster! June here! (Finally) ahem, let's get to work on this!

Instead, I got some drunk who barely lived in my house. If you could call it a house…but that’s not really important.

• So! I'm aware of the fact that I obsess over the little parts, yes. You need a space after that ellipsis. Also! I understand you're creating his language by speaking informally, but, I'm not so sure if having it punctuated like this is doing us any favors.

Let's see...

Instead, I got some drunk who barely lived in my house-- if you could even call it a house... but that's not really important.

You see how I used a dash instead of making it two sentences? It's not necessary to do that, but the way you have it seems a little bit fragmented.

I don’t know why, but he came home one day and just decided that he didn’t want to be there anymore. Of course, he didn’t leave without giving my mother and me a goodbye present. Mama had a broken arm and I had a black eye as well as a chipped tooth. Regardless of the pain, I still didn’t want him to go. I fought him back so hard; he thought I was "disrespecting him". He hit harder. He didn’t see I only wanted him to stay.

See that "had"? Should it be "got"? If you use "got" you'd still be following the rules of his language, and, you'll also make things clearer for the audience, dear.

I hated that car. It just made my blood boil looking at it. Even thinking about it pisses me off—the rusted bright red paint coated in an inch thick of dirt, those raggedy gray tires that always seemed to be flat, that loose license plate that seemingly held on by a thread…and those seats.

Space after that ellipsis!

I’ve come to the conclusion that I probably would’ve turned out just the same way even if my old man was normal.

You've used the phrase "I've come to the conclusion" above already, dear. It sounds a little repetitive .

*

Now, nitpicks are out of the way!

Okay, this is a great story. I love how it's coming from his point of view so that we're seeing things through his eyes. You got the tone right, too, dear, great job with that.

However, I wanted to know more. I think in some ways, it was complete and concise as it was, but I was left wondering about his mother. Was she abused too? How did she feel and react? I know he wouldn't know exactly how she feels, but it would have been nice to know a little about how he thought she felt-- especially when his daddy left.

Also! At the beginning, you say "if you could even call it a house". I kind of also wanted to know a little more about the house from that line. Was it a falling-apart-shack with loose shutters and creaky floorboards? Or, was it just that his family was so broken that it couldn't be called a house?


The transition was okay. It could have been smoother, but the interrupted way it comes about is great, too. But, even at that point, I felt that you kind of left us some holes to hang in, dear. I couldn't tell that he was in jail-- or was he? I'm assuming he was bound for an electric chair, but we know nothing else. Did he get revenge on someone that tied him to this fate?

All of that being said, there's nothing wrong with leaving us hanging in some parts, dear. I'm just rather nosy with this story and I like have have have to know more. It's like.. tugging at my brainstrings, haha.

On the whole, pop, you did a brilliant job, especially for such a short piece. You defined his character well-- gave him a voice that points him to a certain part of the country.

Keep it up, dear. Well done!

June

<3

Hey, anti-pop!

Or, using June's nickname, Popster! Or, Aunty Pop!

There's a world of possibilities.

I'm PMing you and reviewing you at the same time, so this might be a little scattered. I'll try my hardest to concentrate, though!

I could’ve lived in Buckingham Palace; if it was still with that man, I would’ve wound up just the same.

This took me a moment. It could be that I'm just painfully slow at these things, but I'd rewrite it as:

I could've lived in Buckingham Palace, but if I was still with that man, I wouldv'e wound up just the same.

That's just me, though.

it does have a somewhat sick and twisted humor to it: A skinny white boy in the dead of night, tears running down his flaming cheeks, gnawing on the corner of a blue and battered blanket just so he won’t make his daddy ashamed.

I'm not seeing the sick and twisted humor. It's sick, certainly, and by all means twisted, but where's the humor?

Even as a young man I can’t look at a black leather belt without cringing. Though, looking back on the whole episode

Look, look! You used look twice in two successive sentences! Sorry. That just bothers me; call it my editor's peeve. Is there any way for you to reword/rephrase it so the word isn't repeated?

But boy did that man beat the ever loving crap outta me.

Comma after 'But', I believe, *is a grammar freak, commas especially*

So! I see you've already recieved some lovely reviews! I'll just tell you my opinions.

-- First of all, the end confused me. I assume, after reading it a second time, that Mr. O'Conner ended up just like his father. Ended up sentenced to death in the Electric Chair? *shudder* Just lovely, m'dear. Way to brighten my day.



Just kidding! So, we don't see what he does to get sentenced, and although I wonder (of course!) it doesn't bother me too terribly, and I don't think you should tell us. However, I think you might want to add a little bit more towards the end. You keep mentioning how he would've turned out the same even if his father was normal. What, though did he turn out like? Heartless? Cold, unfeeling? Did he just make a lot of stupid mistakes? I think you could quickly reminisce about his personality traits.

-- Love the last line. It was epically awesome.

That's really all I could find! I loved the ending (once I figured out what was going on), although the interruptions were a bit jarring. I'm positive your transitions could have been smoother, but not positive as to how you'd accomplish that. I think it would be best just having the officer calling his name, but not having Mr. O'Conner keep commenting on the officer. Talking about his death is nice, but...

Ugh. I'm not making sense, am I? Anyway, I just mean that the interruptions, and how he kept referring to 'drawing conclusions' and 'Sorry about that' could be remedied, if you wanted to.

But, no worries. It's not that confusing/choppy. Just a suggestion!

Adios, amiga!

~Evi

I enjoyed this. I can't believe people consider this a long story. My god, its like two pages. I really connected with the character you created, he has a real voice that helps drag the reader into his own word.

I must say, there are some spots where descriptions and the dialogue itself seems a bit barren or dull, I think you could add more depth to the character with some specific descriptions of the world around him.

These are really just nitpicks though. I enjoyed the story very much, from the first lines about the father to the final twists. I must say I look forward to reading more from you.

Mike.

Hello. Here by request.

if it was still with that man

Conditional clause - "if it were". I agree that this sentence is quite confusing to the swift eye, consider rephrasing as already suggested.

my throat was almost too swollen from crying.

The clump of words in the middle's a little odd. I think you should just nitch "... almost too...".

—the rusted bright red paint coated in an inch thick of dirt,

Picky, but firstly, how would you be able to see the paint if it were coated in so much dirt? I know it's an exaggeration, but maybe just say that it was hard to see the sparkling rust beneath all the dirt, or something. I'd also get rid of "thick".

I sit here now, thinking about these things. Thinking about my past. My life. What I’ve done, what I haven’t. Whether or not it was all worth it; the choices I made later, I mean.

This is great character development and yes it's effective, but not right after learning about this guy's childhood. How does hearing about this drunk man in anyway lead to him questioning his life? It might be worth tacking in a line or so before now, linking them together if you understand what I mean. Otherwise you're ignoring the preceding 500 words or however many. And if it's about his teenage years, why did we just here about everything before? Again, try to link the events together. If I'm being too vague let me know so that I don't go off on another tangent.

I enjoyed that a lot! I loved your character development and the bits of dialogue you threw in there. Nicely done. Now, the following will be petty comments you might like to consider:

I found that the description of his father was great, but far too focused on just him. I couldn't really understand the whole "fate" side without knowing more about his bad luck, or good luck, or whatever. As June said, the house and mother would be good starts, and in fact, everything about his home. Because that's where we live, it's our fortress against the world, so if you can make the entire thing seem evil and crooked - even though it's already great on that account - you'll have us caring more. So yeah, keep his home world very isolated. Then you might be able to show us how thing have affected his "fate". If you see what I mean. That's largely why I was so unsure about the transition early on, with the whole father-focus as opposed to just the general childhood.

However, you've already done an excellent job! I loved this; it was well written, concise and flowed well, and didn't take us into random rants like I most likely have.

Best
Blinky

*salutes* Here as requested, Poppy dearest !

You've asked for an overall, so I'll be sure to do that. The occasional nitpick might appear randomly... I find it hard to resist posting them, hehe ^^

Your opening sentence, and the subsequent paragraph, are strong and immediatly catch the reader's attention. After having read that, I was eager to continue. Worth a postive mention, for sure.

-'s:

^ You use a lot of that in this story, which isn't a bad thing, but you should make sure you don't overdo it in any paragraph. The first contains one, the second contains three, the fourth two, then suddenly there are no more until you have three of them in almost consequtive sentences. Don't overuse this, my dear. Play around with sentence types, and get rid of some of those lines. Which I do not know how to name because I'm failacular like that.

Random Nitpick:

(Can't resist. Warned you, didn't I? )

Instead, I got some drunk who barely lived in my house – If you could call it a house… but that’s not really important.

This is a good sentence, but I'm sure you can do better than the "... but that's not realy important".

Overall

You write very well. Your description is good, and your characters convey emotion the way real people do. It was an impressive read *Gold star* and I very much enjoyed it, though the topic was sad. I feel for your MC, and I love the way you show it from his perspective. The sudden twist in the story was extremely well done. Also, the last sentence is a very strong ending.

Good job, m'dear.

It's not a very long review, but that's because I don't think having another five pages of praise is what you were looking for and seeing as I have no nitpicks to attend to, this is all I have for you.

PM me for anything! Hope this was helpful. Come back for more reviews at any time.

XxxDo

;C Sorry I'm so late, love! Just, life, you know, stuff like that! ^_^ {Okay, so maybe it was really more like procrastination, but...} Hopefully I won't repeat much that the other reviewers have already said, but I'm not reading their posts to check. D: Because I don't want to be influenced, and all that jazz. xD

if it were still with that man, I would’ve wound up just the same. I guess you could say I believe in that thing called ‘fate’, but I just think it sounds the most reasonable. That man ended up with me for some reason, whether it was a divine joke or a crack head’s blessing. Can’t change that.

Meep. Two things! First of all, you use 'that man' to refer to the father twice in this short space of time which makes it feel awkward. Unless you're intending to make it super awkward and emphasize that, you should change it up. ^_^

That grubby old thing got me through some rough times.

I wonder if this is meant to imply a sort of nostalgic affection? If so, you should make that a bit clearer. Right now it seems kind of disdainful, which seems unfair since the blanket helped the MC through so much! D;

Whenever my old man would storm in my room come three o’clock in the morning – yelling at me for something we both know I didn’t do – I’d stuff that old rag in my mouth so Mama wouldn’t wake up from my screaming.

=O Um, 'for something we both knew I didn't do' sounds like it fits the tense more, and you should mayyybe stick in something so we can make sure that the 'rag' is the blanket. <_< I thought it might have been a different rag. D: But that's okay, it fits with the rest of the paragraph, so no real worries. ^_^

But boy did that man beat the ever loving crap outta me. I swear, my backside must’ve been bright red for the first nine years of my life.

Mehhh, I like the dialect kind of thing, but this seems like an overload. D: With the 'boy', 'ever loving', 'crap', 'outta', and 'must've', it seems a bit unnatural. You can take a few of those things out and it will sound better, in my opinion. ^_^

Even as a young man I can’t look at a black leather belt without cringing.

Maybe 'even now'? =/ Otherwise it seems overly formal and awkward.

Of course, he didn’t leave without giving my mother and me a goodbye present. Mama got a broken arm and I had a black eye as well as a chipped tooth.

Great description, but try to keep the parallel phrasing. You say 'Mama got', but that 'I had'. =/ It doesn't fit!

Away from me.

In that damned car.

I hated that car. It just made my blood boil looking at it. Even thinking about it pisses me off—the rusted bright red paint coated in an inch of dirt, those raggedy gray tires that always seemed to be flat, that loose license plate that seemingly held on by a thread… and those seats.

Ehhh, it seems like the narrator skips from item to item to item to item on a whim throughout the whole story, and I'd like a bit more connection between things. Like 'away from me' 'in that car' 'that car did this' 'this was something' 'something blah blah', know what I mean? It has the potential to flow, but you make it so obvious by pointing out the connections on their own lines that it gets annoying. D:

I sit here now, thinking about these things. Thinking about my past. My life. What I’ve done, what I haven’t. Whether or not it was all worth it; the choices I made later, I mean.

Ah, man. Do I have some stories to tell about my teenage years—

o_O; Random random tense change kind of shakes me up, but I guess it makes sense. D: -sob- Maybe try to smooth it out a bit!

My fate was probably sealed from the day I was born. That’s that. No matter how I grew up, or what decisions I made, I most likely would’ve ended up in the exact same way I am now.

But a hug might’ve helped.

D: I really don't like this ending. It seems WAY too expository {I think that's the right word -- explanatory and showing?}, and the last line doesn't fit with anything. 'Hug' is a nice, fluffy word, while the rest of the story is HARD and sad. =/

I like the twist at the end, but with this ending, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Overall, it was clear and descriptive. Nice work, anti-pop. <3 <3 <3

-Hannah-

"Violence breeds more violence." I agree with that statement, rather than with your fate theory. But, whatever.

I liked this a lot. You wrote it very truthful and honest. I think that's what really does the trick for me; your writing style adds almost a kind of revelry to the tragedy. I think that if you would have gotten only a tad (melo)dramatic, you would have hit the complete wrong key.

But a hug might’ve helped.

Loved your last line.