I consider myself to be a good person, however, there is this:
When I was maybe 10 years old I came home from school with a drawing I did in art class. It was a sketchy picture of an old man looking sideways over his shoulder and his neck was too long. My mom looked at it and laughed and showed it to my father. When he saw it, he got immediately uncomfortable. As a child, I really couldn't understand why. My mom asked what was wrong and he said for some reason the drawing terrified him. It really did, his palms were sweating and everything. He said, "Alexandria, please don't ever draw that again".
Of course, being a mischievous child, I continued to draw this again and again, tracing the original old long necked man picture. I would hide them in his office drawers, closet, briefcase, anywhere that I know he would look. He became very stressed out by this and even lost sleep, as he tells me now, he was having nightmares of the drawing. My mom tried to get me to stop doing it, but I had never seen my father act so emotional and it was a creative rush to keep finding new ways to surprise him with the drawing.
One day I snuck out in the middle of the night and hid the drawing in the glove box of his car. While on the way to work, apparently he saw it and almost got into a terrible car accident. When I got home from school my mother told me that he was livid and I was to stay in my room until he got home. When he finally did, he stormed up into my room and when he opened the door, I had a poster-board sized drawing of it sitting in a chair. He literally screamed, I heard him from under the bed where I was hiding. He started running in place and crying and everything.
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