The silent plotter.
Hell and what i stand for.
my trade craft
to all who are reading this sad story, i warn you yet
again that its not a very nice one...
with the ever punitive atmosphere at home i came to relise
exactly what i could and couldnt do. knowing alot of the
answers to requests even before asking them. in a way i
wanted to be able to know them, i read some where that a
philosifer had written"know thy enemy." and in a way thats
what i did.
i found ways of spying. no, i wasnt the regular james
bond, he was to flashy; i had to be slick and cunning,
devious and wise. In some ways evesdroping was a everyday
thing. My parents always happened to do their talking on
the deck, behind closed sliding glass doors. they seemed
to think they were safe there. they thought they could see
anyone coming up to the doors and any one that thought
they could go anywhere in the house(because you had to
pass infront of these doors to make it to the various
rooms in the house), not true. I could from my parents
office (which was in listening distance of the deck) hear
everything they were talking about. this was a clever
trick i found useful when it came to planed talks and what
they were going to say. in a way i got the feel for
exactly what they were going to say and how they felt on
any matter. i was also able to hear through their walls.
To hear what they were saying in bed for years had come to
me as not only a curse(damn their playfullnes!) but a gift.
i also with out knowing it found that i was extremly good
at lying. anymore i find that i can lye my way out of any
situation and often abused that skill making it a day to
even to this day i change the story to my favor even in
the smallist stituations. i do this with out relising it
and often wonder why i did that. why did i tell a white
lye for the hell of it?why? and yet i have the gift to
make them the most belivable storys you would ever hear.
my trade craft had saved me and in more ways then one. i
knew how far i could push my parents and to what extent.
this is where i found that running away just wouldnt seem
to work. you see karen isnt the kinda person that will let
you come back to the house after about three housrs. no,
she'd have the cops all over your ass like shit on
velcrow.knowing that she was paranoid worked to my
advantage some times and other times it didnt.
i find it a major acomplishment that i knew my parents
inside and out. it made me happy for while and i often
played my part as a teenager and screwed with their heads
knowing what kinds of punishments i might get. i found it
the most fun when i completely throw them for a loop and
they dont know what to do ending with them deciding that
i should pick my own punishment.
knowing that i can manipulate my parents a little every
now and then gives me hope but when i find that i can
predict them and what they are planning thats when i will
find i can get away with more.
the story will continue theres plenty more i can tell you