Godzilla in Lego City

Carefully, one after the other I stacked my Lego blocks up. I made cities as tall as I and placed people along its sunlit streets.

My brother flew his Lego car down its alleyways where it was going so fast, it never quite seemed to touch the ground.

“Vroom Vroom,” he’d say, and I would roar like his engine. I wasn’t his engine of course.

I was Godzilla, and I stomped behind him as he fled in his car. I smashed down the building blocks, pulled at Lego men (and women) until their heads popped and their torsos came away. I’d gnash them with my teeth, and I’d spit them out (otherwise mum would be upset). “Disgusting,” I said with all the haughtiness of a female Godzilla, and we’d have a good laugh.

Later that night, after dad had come home drunk, mum closed the bedroom door and tucked us in good night. Brother and I shared a room you see, and we always kept each other up late.

He leant over, from one bed to the other, and whispered in the ear. He roared like a little mouse, and I let out a little eep-!

We shared our goodnight giggles and imagined what we’d destroy tomorrow. A subway perhaps, with Godzilla tunnelling in the safe haven below?

Outside, we heard mum and dad shouting and the muted noise of something shattering – clattering on the floor.

Glass? Crockery? Mum?

We ran from our beds and peaked at the door. We could see some shadows flitting, the signs of hurried movement – Then I saw dad. If mum towered over us, then dad towered over mum – and he was hitting her. Mum crumpled like all the Lego blocks and crawled away.

Godzilla gave chase.

There was no escape.

It wasn’t funny anymore.

 

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25 thoughts on “Godzilla in Lego City

    1. That’s true, ‘liking’ this story might a bit too light of a term to describe its content.
      I’m glad my meaning came across to you. Thank you for taking the time to express your response. I think I too – feel very much the same way.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. The reality of this is harsh and poignant, it illustrates part of what many families go through that mums try to shelter their children from. Used to have a friend who had such a family life, and actually lived through abuse similar prior to meeting my husband. Very well written as always Nam. This piece required a response, in fact it demanded one. Great job.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh yea, I left him just as I realized I was about to lose the most precious thing to me. Disappointed in myself for not realizing sooner the predicament I had put myself into. As for my friend, he ended up getting killed in the line of duty I think. She was young enough that her mom was able to fabricate a lie about how her dad really was so that she would see him as a hero. Technically he died a hero so it works.

        Like

    1. It most certainly isn’t!
      The story originated from the more sublime idea of the exploration of childhood, and the realisation adulthood is completely different.
      I didn’t mean for it to grow so dark, it just kind of did on its own :/
      I’m still sure there was a less heavy way of writing this story – but it would require ridding myself of godzilla knocking down lego, which I kind of liked.

      Liked by 3 people

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