Nevaeh's Hope

by Thereasa Black

  She led me to a different set of doors and into an area for patient recovery. She might act differently, what did that mean? I tried to think of the way that she normally acted, but nothing came to mind. All I could remember is her leaving. To work, to the store, to take a boyfriend somewhere, to a date, she was always going somewhere. We entered her room and, just like that, the woman was gone. I was left alone, in a poorly lit room, with the stranger that I called mom.

  I sat down beside her bed and stared at her face. She looked so calm, so happy. The stresses of her everyday life weren’t weighing her down. I could still see the marks on her face from the last lesson that Jerome had taught her, maybe the tears had washed all of her makeup away and she wasn’t able to hide anymore.

  Chapter II

  When It Rains

  Marsha

  Of all the dirt bag men that I let into my life who would’ve thought that the one who’d get the closest to taking my life would’ve been my own son. That thought alone brought more pain to my already aching body. The pain didn’t only generate from the wound in my abdomen, I ached deep inside, it was a pain that no one else could understand. Whether it was the pain in my stomach, the pain in my body, or the pain of my little boy leaving, the medication that the doctors prescribed for me made it go away. It took away all of my regrets and all of my sorrow and I had plenty of both. My mind always drifted to my second biggest regret when I thought about the accident, the twins.

  Nevaeh was two years old when Max got out of jail on parole and I got pregnant again. I seriously considered an abortion. After all, I could barely take care of the child that I already had and there was no way that I could support another baby on the tips that I was making at Sipps. Plus, Max was going to be home and God knows he wouldn’t be able to get a job with his record. That meant another stomach would need to be fed off of my already stretched pay check. I was able to pick up more hours at work, until my eighth month. We found out along the way that I was having twins, perfect. I thought I was going to be struggling with two babies just to find out that I was now going to have three, not including the big ass waste of space that had gotten out of jail.

  Whenever these thoughts penetrated my mind, I just pulled out my happy pills. How I loved the feeling that that they brought to me. To be free of the weights that I had carried for so long, it was indescribable. No one could understand, no one.

  Nevaeh

  It had been a month since the incident. None of us had seen Junior since that day at the hospital. He had to have thought that he killed her. To be living with that for this long must be tearing him apart. But there’s nothing that I can do to help. He left us, all of us. Without a word, he just walked out of the door. How could he have so little regard for the pain that his disappearance would have on us. He must have known that our love wouldn’t just be gone from him.

  I don’t want this thing that is growing inside of me. I wish that it would just die. I’m no murderer, I can’t do it myself, but if there is a God, he would make this go away. The seed of that monster planted within me is a constant reminder of those dark nights. The nights that mom had a real reason for not being here to protect me. Was there ever a real reason not be there for your child? A good reason? What will I do when it’s my turn to make a choice?

  I’m showing now, not that anyone has noticed. Even if she saw my stomach I don’t think that Sasha would understand. But mom, ever since we’ve been home, she hasn’t been the same. Her eyes seem to have an eternal glaze. Occasionally, I’ll look at her and see a glimpse of recognition. Most of the time though, it seems that she doesn’t even notice me in the room. She just sits and stares into nothingness for hours. Our interaction with her is not that much different from when she was always at work, but this is worse. At least when she’s at work I know that she isn’t here for me because she’s trying to help us get by. Now it just seems to be all for nothing.

  Junior

  I tried to sleep but my stomach growled so loudly that it woke me up. Four weeks had passed and no one had come looking for me. I was an orphan now, no one looked for missing orphans. Even worse, I was a murderer, only police looked for them. Not here, not on these streets. On these streets everyone held their tongue when the cops came around. The kids pretended that it was because it wasn’t cool to snitch, but I knew the truth. The truth was that if you talked to cops, you’d probably never talk to anyone again because you’d be next. That wasn’t the case with me though. I knew Nevaeh wouldn’t turn me into the cops, so I knew no one would be looking for me. Besides, no one looked for orphans, not even sisters.

  I attempted to ignore the hunger and convince my body to go back to sleep as I played my mom’s favorite song in my head. I could almost hear her voice. “Skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really, do come true.”

  Sasha

  I heard Nevaeh and mom screaming in the hallway. It hadn’t been like this since that night. No one screamed anymore, no one talked anymore. It was mainly just all of us gliding around in a daze, not even noticing each other. I noticed them, they didn’t seem to see me. Sure, Nevaeh made me food and made sure that I got to school every day, but it was like a broken record. It was the same every day. The same greeting in the morning, the emotionless hug that she gave me as she left for school, it was like I didn’t exist anymore. I wonder what would happen if she woke up one morning and I wasn’t here. The fact that Junior had left us didn’t seem to affect anyone but me. I don’t even think mom noticed.

  The screaming got louder, it sounded like it was coming from the bathroom. I felt that familiar wet warmth in my bed as I pushed harder on my ears. I couldn’t handle this alone, I needed Junior.

  Marsha

  “What the fuck Nevaeh! What the fuck?” I fell to my knees on the bathroom floor in front of her. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My words seemed to slur as they left my mouth but I knew exactly what was going on. “My pain wasn’t enough? Seeing me struggle through this shit of a life wasn’t a good enough deterrent for you? Having a fucking baby at sixteen ruined my life and your dumb ass goes and does it at thirteen! You stupid whore! You stupid fucking whore!”

  I grabbed the first thing that I could and struck her with it. How could she have been so stupid? It came down again and again on her back as she turned away from me to protect that thing growing inside of her. I hit her until I couldn’t move, until the pain came back. I leaned against the wall as the tears streamed down my face. “Why,” I whispered as if I expected an answer from God? He didn’t answer, he never did.

  I pulled myself from the ground while that whore stood there looking down on me. How dare she cry. I went to my bedroom and grabbed the pills. I needed the pain to go away, I couldn’t bare this feeling.

  How did she not understand? After the twins were born, I had to stop working again. Max tried to find jobs, but once the companies found out about his prison time, they all but pushed him out of the door. So, he went back to his old games. By the first September after the twins were born, their daddy was right back in prison. With a three-year-old and twin five-month-old’s, I was right back to being just another single mother besieged in the hood.

  She knew all of this and yet she did it anyway. How could she do this? How could she let herself become me? I felt myself drifting away as I gave my body to the bed.

  Nevaeh

  I was getting out of the shower, she didn’t even knock, she just busted in saying that she had to use the bathroom. I hadn’t yet grabbed a towel, but it didn’t matter, she had already seen it. The bulge protruding from my stomach only meant one thing. I’ve never seen such disgust in someone’s eyes. It was coupled with a look of disbelief. Her look alone made me cry, that was before she called me a whore and told me that my birth ruined her life. I ruined her life. She must have always felt that way. Deep inside I knew it. I could tell by the way that I caught her looking at me sometimes. Had I not been born, she would have had a different life. She would’ve had colleg
e; the love of her life wouldn’t have ended up in jail. She would have gotten out of this God forsaken city. Everything would have been different.

  She grabbed the plunger as I turned my back to her. I may not have wanted this baby but I didn’t want to kill it, I didn’t want it to have to feel pain. I wanted it to die of its own free will, its sacrifice for me. It wasn’t the pain of the wood against my back, it was the words that echoed in my head that I knew would never leave me. It wasn’t my fault that this had happened, it was her’s and her’s alone. She left me alone with a monster and his bastard child was growing inside of me. There was no one to blame but her.

  My mom disappeared into her room to drown herself in a concoction of alcohol and pain pills no doubt. This had become the normal. These were the ever-tumbling shambles that Junior left behind.

  Junior

  For the first couple of weeks I had nightmares about the stabbing every night. When I woke up all I could think about was the funeral that I missed. I didn’t imagine that it would be glorious. I’ve been to a couple of funerals, but they were always so plain. Nothing compared to the one’s on tv. Those one’s always had what seemed like a million flowers, a huge church full of people who cared, mayors and cops came to show their respects, and the people in those caskets usually had a head full of gray hair and a face full of wrinkles. That’s not what it’s like around here. Here, mothers bury their children, cops standby outside of the church waiting for a drive-by by the men who didn’t finish off the whole crew the first time, and families say their last goodbyes to the murdered.

  By the third week I let them go. I couldn’t bare the pain of the loss anymore. Even if I want to find my sisters, I couldn’t. How would I find the foster home that they went to? I wouldn’t even know where to start. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they weren’t looking for me. I guess they buried me right along with my mom.

  I meant a few guys that offered to help me out the other day. They let me stay at their house so I didn’t have to sleep outside. I don’t pay them rent I just have to watch out for the cops when they’re doing their big deals. The house isn’t too bad, it’s pretty nice inside but they always have people here that are addicted to whatever it is that they’re selling. People are always coming and going. It seems like there’s just a line constantly forming outside of the house. You would think that the cops would be more involved, but they’re not. Sometimes they come in and buy stuff too. The line always seems to pause when a woman comes in though, especially if it’s a pretty one. If she’s ugly one or two of the guys might take her upstairs, but if she’s a pretty fiend they all go up and take turns doing their business with her. The women always leave with their heads down and a little clear bag in their hand. How can anybody do that to themselves?

  Sasha

  Mom ran out of her pain killers the other day and she has no more refills. She was not happy. I thought that once they were gone that she would start seeing me again instead of being that zombie that just seemed to move from room to room. But instead of going back to normal, she became another person. I didn’t recognize her most of the time, she was just always angry and screaming. Maybe she was like this before, but because she was always gone, I didn’t really see this side of her. All I know is that I miss my mom.

  Then there’s Nevaeh. She’s always crying. I still can’t believe that she’s pregnant, but that’s no reason for her to cry. Having a baby around the house might not be so bad. At least then I’d have someone to play with. She doesn’t talk a lot about it. The only time she even acknowledges the fact that she’s pregnant is when I ask her a question about it. She won’t tell me who the father is, she always just tells me to mind my business. After that I just shut up and go back to my room.

  Junior still hasn’t come home. Nevaeh goes out every day looking for him, but she hasn’t found him yet. I hope that maybe he’ll come back to school one of these days and then I can convince him to come home. Every day I sit staring at the door in class thinking that any minute it’s going to swing open and Junior will walk in. Sometimes I close my eyes hoping that when I open them, he’ll be standing there, like he wanted to surprise me. But when I open them, he’s never there. My teacher keeps yelling at me for not paying attention, but, how can I? My family is disappearing and I can’t focus on anything but them. Maybe Nevaeh’s baby can replace Junior. I’m so excited, only four more months!

  Marsha

  It’s been so long since I’ve had to handle life on my own. Can you imagine having the biggest weight lifted off of your shoulders for a month and then all of a sudden, like some cruel joke, it’s dropped on you from space? When I wake up in the morning, I feel that I can get through the day without anything, no liquor or pain pills. Then I see Nevaeh and I see myself at sixteen all over again and I realize that I can’t do it. That stomach is a constant reminder of my failure. Not just as a person but as a mother. I failed her. Maybe I didn’t show her enough love or maybe I wasn’t around enough and she felt the need to find love from some advantageous ass hole. She still won’t tell me who the dad is, I ask her every day. And every day we fight over it. So, what starts off in the morning as no drinks, becomes three after looking at her rounding stomach, and I lose count once the arguments begin. I don’t want to see her, I can’t stand to fucking look at her. I understand why my mom kicked me out now. It wasn’t because she was punishing me for being irresponsible, it’s because every time that she saw me, I punished her.

  Then I think of Junior and the rest of my world crumbles. I know that I need to go back to work, I can’t pay rent without going back, but I can’t move most days. My baby’s gone. He’s gone. He was my favorite, he reminded me of his dad and the love that I felt when I was with him. Junior always tried to protect me from all of those pieces of shit that told me that they loved me. That’s why I still can’t understand why he did this to me. Why would he try to kill the one person that he was always trying to protect? He was the last man that loved me, the only one that I thought loved me unconditionally and I somehow managed to drive him away. Some people just aren’t meant to be loved.

  It’s all of these sad ass thoughts that I need to escape from. Alcohol isn’t enough to numb the pain. I need something to make it go away. I don’t know how I dealt with this shit for all of these years. Now I can’t do it on my own.

  Nevaeh

  With Junior gone I was still playing mom for two kids, just now I was taking care of a grown woman. I’m getting so tired of her. She won’t even look at me anymore. Whenever I walk into a room and she wasn’t expecting me she shoots her eyes away as if looking at me would take away her vision. Am I really that horrible to look at? It’s her fault that I’m going through this. I still wish every day that this baby would die. Why should I have to pay for the sins of my mother?

  Her Earthly escapes ran out last night. And with the end of the pain killers also came the end of the temporary disability checks because she was now able to go back to work. You would think that since she had a month long pretty much paid vacation from work that she would’ve been just fine with going back. Wrong! She won’t even get out bed most days because she’s mad that has to deal with reality. She needs to wake up, she has responsibilities and I can’t take care of her child and take care of my own. The drunk stupor that she stumbles around in is a little better than the zombie that she was with the pills, but when she’s drunk, she won’t leave me alone about this damn baby. It like she believes that if she knew who the father was that the baby would vanish or something. That’s all she ever asks me. Not if I’ve gone to my prenatal appointments or if I’m going through hell at school because I’m the whore in middle school that was too stupid to make the guy wear a condom. It’s always “who’s the father?” Who the fuck cares? It’s a little late to be playing the part of concerned parent.

  Sasha

  Nevaeh and mom got into it pretty bad today. I heard their screams from my room even after I turned my music all the way up. I went to th
e kitchen when I heard a shriek. It sounded the same as the day that Junior tried to kill my mom. Oh yeah, I found out about that one day when my mom was in one of her trances. She just kept saying it over and over.

  By the time that I got to the kitchen my mom had a knife in her hand, tears were streaming down her face and she was staring frantically at Nevaeh. She was on the other side of the room screaming for me to lock myself in my room. I told her that I wasn’t going to leave her. Nevaeh was crying too, but hers were tears of fear. I could always tell the difference. I didn’t want my mom to kill Nevaeh. If she died then the baby would be gone too. My mom kept screaming over and over that Nevaeh was a liar and finally I just ran outside. I needed to find Junior, he was the only one that could help us.

  Marsha

  This whore of a liar! She goes out and tramps it up in the streets and comes back trying to say that it’s my fault that she got pregnant! I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t control myself. It didn’t feel like it was me grabbing the knife, it was as if someone was controlling me else. But it couldn’t be true what she was saying. If her bastard’s life was on the line, I knew that she would tell the truth. I screamed for her to tell the truth but, she wouldn’t change her story. I lunged toward her with the knife and she made no attempt to protect her stomach. No attempt! What kind of mother could I have been to her for her to think that it’s not her duty to protect her child? Or maybe she was telling the truth and she didn’t give a fuck about that thing that was growing inside of her.

  When I came at her for the third time and she didn’t try, I knew that she wasn’t lying. How could I have done this to her? I put the knife to my wrist and she screamed for me to stop. What was I doing? What had I done? I didn’t deserve to live. I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed it all to be over. I ran out of the apartment with the last of the money from my disability check. I knew exactly where to go.