Like the subject line says, Empty Ellie used to looooove to throw things when she was angry. This is one of the ways that she escalated, when I was in high school, and her yelling no longer left any kind of impression on me, because it happened all the goddamn time.

So we would fight, over something like say, I wanted to take pottery an an elective, but she her heart set on me having a bed and breakfast when I grew up, so she wanted me to take statistics to help me with that (how that would help me, I have no idea. let's not get too worried about logic here). Anyways, if I didn't back down quickly, and the screaming didn't deter me, eventually, she'd throw whatever was handy. This included things like hot curling irons and also pots and pans, so I started keeping an eye on what was near her hands when things would get heated.

Unfortunately, given that she's also a hoarder, lots of things to throw were never too far away.

There are three particular instances of her throwing things that stick out.

The first is the time that she hit me in the face with a hot curling iron. She was suuuuuper nice after that one, until it healed. Probably because she realized (though I didn't) that if I'd have told anybody what that was about, she'd have been in all kinds of fucking trouble. Her aim with the curling iron was much shittier in the future, and it typical fell very short of me (but landed on the carpet, burning it. Which was MY fault, of course).

The next is the time that she threw a can of some kind of food at me, and I ducked, so it tore through the screen of a window. As I was going to retrieve it, I called her crazy. She laughed like a fucking lunatic and told me that everybody knew that I was the crazy one, and that I'd never convince anybody that there was anything wrong with her. As she's yelling this, I'm going outside to get the can of corn, or whatever. And there, just out of view of the windows, are three of the neighbors. Who kindly let me know that if anything comes of it, they'll definitely side with me in terms of who is crazy (and yet, nobody ever called the cops on her, so my feeling on that in hindsight is kind of "how sweet that you'll speak up if someone else speaks up first. please go fuck yourself, and your lack of actually helping me").

The last one is the very last time she ever threw something at me. At this point, I was a young adult, living on my own, having just finished college, and having been paying my own way for a few years. I lived on the third and fourth floor of a brownstone, in a little duplex. Empty Ellie was visiting, and came up to my bedroom on the 4th floor to ask me if I wanted some pineapple. She brought the pineapple with her. I don't remember what happened, but one thing let to another and she threw the pineapple at me. I ducked, and it hit my computer screen (old CRT screen) with the most horrifying bonk!, but luckily just bounced off, no harm done. Empty Ellie actually cringed, and said to me apologetically "If that had broken, I'd have paid to get you a new one". Because, you know, I, her daughter, will HEAL if something thrown at me hits me. Whereas material possessions may break, and are therefore more important.

Anyways, I stared at her in a way that probably looked scary as fuck, and quiet told her that the next time she threw something at me, I was throwing it out the nearest window, and throwing her after it. She must have believed me, because that was the last time she ever threw something at me.

Given that I have (since then) always lived on the 5th (or higher) floor of a building, I wonder if she remembers that and it's one of the things that keep her in check.