When I was maybe about 3 or 4 years old I was sitting by the staircase in my basement. My mother was urging me to come up the stairs. My brother was there as well, he might have been 5 or so. He was upset because the lights we off and the only ray of clarity was coming up stairs. I vividly remember my mother and brother’s busts protruding from the side of the staircase, the light illuminating half of their bodies, and the silhouette of my vision was laced with darkness, framing them.
They were so confused as to why I wasn’t scared of the darkness behind me, so much so on my brother’s part that he was crying, he was scared of what was in the dark. I think even if they were confused I knew I was conformable and I didn’t feel that there was anything to be feared. I had the light in my sights.
When I was a toddler, I stood by the stair case of my old home. My brother, although not older than me, was scared of the darkness that lurked in the back of the room. The unknown, the unseeable, the possibility of what was in there runs rapid in a child’s mind. But not me. I didn’t see any danger. It was like how we left it. I didn’t let my imagination (whatever of it existed then) make me irrational. Even my mother questioned my behavior, thinking I went brain dead or something for not being a regular child.
I was a very young child. I was sitting by the staircase in my old house covered in darkness. I just sat there. I didn’t know what to do. My brother stood by my mother, crying, asking me to come to them. But I didn’t heel to their pleas and sat there unable to understand the fear that plagued my bothers mind to what was behind me. I did nothing. Just watched in ignorance, taking their warnings passively.
“My day came. I was tall and I felt very powerful at the plate. I couldn’t believe that I was as bad as they wished me to be. I swung wildly but with force. I knew I was strong, and maybe like they said, “crazy.” But I had this feeling inside me that something real was there. Just hardened shit, maybe, but that was more than they had.” (33)
I feel like this passage really represents Henry’s character because it shows all at once his desire to be accepted, how he deceives others perception of him, and his acknowledgement that it may not even be real. All of these in one passage show the contradiction of Henry’s character. He wants be accepted but he deceives other because he does no have confidence in himself, but also knowing that their feelings about him might not be genuine, but he isn’t really either so does that mean he is like them, or is he different, does he accept that in himself because what if he is crazy and that hard shit within himself is just like everyone else and you just need to know when to push them out? It goes around in circles but that’s his character. He can be very self aware but not so much so because he is on a path of self-discovery simultaneously. So in a way he doesn’t really know himself but he tries, at least. He feeds off negative and positive experiences equally and he is very observant, it is very intriguing where his character will go in the rest of the novel.