So... skipping the horrible consequences of that last story. On to another. And, skip its consequences too. Don't worry... we'll come back to it eventually. One day Jackson and i were on my mother's front porch. It was about 8 or 9 feet off of the ground. This was after things had turned into a nightmare, but before he had in essence sold me to Edward. On this day, he was lecturing me on being unresponsive in bed. i tucked my head down and listened to him go on and on and i got madder by the minute. If i showed any pleasure in the act at all, he got angry and hit me. And, i could tell he was gearing up to beat me for being listless. His voice rose in that dangerous way and he kept shaking me for emphasis. i knew that the punch was going to come any minute. But, it didn't. Not for a long time. He kept droning on and on and on, and i became more and more furious by the second. His whining and moaning was annoying me. Then he said something in the exact words of my Granddaddy. And, like a switch being flipped, i was completely enraged."Fuck you!" i spat at him.He looked at me in shock. i didn't care. i jumped off of the porch swing and was striding towards the door when he caught me. He spun me around towards him and out of long experience i knew his fist was sailing towards me before i even got turned around, and i ducked. His fist shot over my head and i leaned forward and sunk my teeth into his chest. He yelped (he always was a terrible pussy) and pushed me away. But, once again, i was in the grip of a beserk rage. i charged him and punched him everywhere i could land my fist. It was completely ineffectual and only served to frustrate me more. But, he was getting really angry now. He grabbed me and shook me and threw me on the floor of the porch. i, as usual, lay there and played dead. i knew he was too fast for me. But, this time... i wasn't playing dead so he would get tired of beating me faster. i was waiting. And watching. and, this time... when he got close, when he leaned down to punch me in the stomach, i pistoned my strong dancer's legs out and kicked him completely off the porch. There was a second when he looked like he might recover by grabbing a porch support. Then his fingers slid off and with a cry of fright (i felt that surge of joy again) he went over the edge. He hit his head on one of Mama's decorative rocks and lay in a heap groaning. i thought he might have bashed in his head, but i didn't stop to check.i went in the house and slammed the door shut, cutting off the sound of his pained groaning. He laid out there until my mother came home about 3 hours later.
