by M. Robinson
“Let me guess,” Memaw stated, bringin’ my thoughts back to the boy I hated the most. “Jackson Pierce.”
“UGH! You won’t believe what he did to me! I’m gonna kill him. Like I’m really gonna murder him! I’m gonna go to jail!” I looked over at her. “Will you bail me out?”
She tried to hide back a laugh.
You see, Memaw Alex wasn’t a regular grandma... she was a cool one.
I still remembered the day a few years ago when she bought me a couple pairs of heart sunglasses at the Fourth of July parade in Southport. She never confirmed it, but I suspected she bought me those for one reason and one reason only.
To block out Jackson.
“You look stupider than you normally do, wearing those sunglasses,” Jackson harassed when he saw me wearin’ them for the first time.
I lifted my head higher, not payin’ him any mind. Pretendin’ as if he wasn’t there.
“Hello!” he shouted near my face. “Did you hear me? Or have I finally gotten my wish and your loud ass mouth can’t talk anymore?”
Still, nothin’. I couldn’t see him.
“She can’t hear you, dummy. She’s wearing her Jackson Blockers,” Shiloh answered for me.
“Her what?” he replied, confused.
“Her Jackson Blockers. You’re invisible when she has them on, duh!”
He didn’t wait for one second, steppin’ in front of my face and rippin’ them off. Immediately throwin’ them on the floor, he stepped on them. Crushin’ them into millions of pieces.
I just stood there not carin’. “It don’t matter. I have back-ups.”
“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side with a nasty look in his eyes. Starin’ only at me. “I’ll break those too.”
“Memaw! This is not a laughin’ matter! He took it too far this time! O-M-G!” I laid my head back on the headrest. “I hate him so freakin’ much!”
“Calm down. What happened?”
I sat up, pullin’ Shiloh’s sweater away to show her the back of my jeans. “This happened!”
“You got your peri—”
“NO! Jackson put ketchup packets in my back pockets, and I didn’t even notice! And now the whole classroom thinks I got my period today!”
Shiloh chimed in, “Harley, they don’t think that. You showed them the proof. Everyone knows Jackson and you have this ongoing prank war.”
“It don’t matter! I can’t ever go back to school! I’m gonna have to move to another state! You think I could go under witness protection?”
“Harley, take a deep breath,” Memaw ordered in a soft tone, and I did as I was told.
“Take another one... that’s it... in and out...”
I felt a little better, but not much.
“Everyone is gonna be talkin’ ‘bout it at school on Monday. I can never show my face in public again.”
“I know it feels that way now, honey, but it won’t feel that way tomorrow. I promise.”
“You swear?”
“Would I ever lie to you?”
I shook my head no.
“I think it’s time I let you both in on a little secret. You’re old enough to hear it now.”
“What?” we replied at the same time.
“Now, I know this is going to sound like the craziest thing I have ever said, but I promise you what I’m about to tell you is nothing but the truth.”
“Okay...”
I waited on pins and needles for what she was about to share, never expectin’ her to say, “Jackson is mean to you because he likes you.”
I looked at her like she was crazy. “Wait, what?”
“I know. Sounds insane, right? I get it. But that’s just how boys are. They bully, tease, taunt, just because they don’t know what else they can do to get your attention. And nothing gets your attention more than hurting your feelings.”
“Memaw, that don’t make any sense.”
“I know, sweet girl, but boys don’t make any sense. It’s best that you realize that now. Because they don’t get any better as they get older.”
“Uncle Lucas picked on you?” Shiloh asked, readin’ my mind.
“Honey, Lucas still picks on me. He just does it in other ways.”
“Like when he won’t let you win at Monopoly and buys all the best real estate?” I asked next, eyein’ Shiloh who looked just as confused as I was.
“Girls, I’m going to let you in on another little secret.”
“There’s more?”
“So much more.”
“Is there like a club we can join? Or a book on this?”
“No, honey... no club or book. Just worldly knowledge that comes with age.”
“Well, how old do we gotta be?”
“A lot older.”
I sighed. “All the good stuff happens when we’re a lot older, like drivin’ motorcycles. And we been knowin’ how to drive those since we were six cuz of the MC.”
Shiloh smiled. It was true, we could drive motorcycles as good as any boy ever could. Better even.
“So, what’s the big secret?” Shiloh questioned.
“Well... I let Lucas beat me at Monopoly.”
“Memaw! Why would you ever let him beat you? Losin’ is the worst feelin’ ever!”
“Because, Harley Jameson, it makes him feel good, and sometimes you just gotta let them feel like an alpha.”
“But they ain’t dogs.”
“Debatable.”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re fixin’ to tell us that for the last bazillion years you guys have been together, you, Alex Ryder—mother of my momma, who never lets Daddy win at anythin’ if she can help it—that you lose on purpose?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m telling you.”
“Memaw, that’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. I don’t lose. I’m a Jameson. We don’t lose. Ever. Especially to that turd, Jackson Pierce.”
“One day, baby, trust me... you won’t feel that way.”
“Why? Cuz girls get dumber as they get older?”
“Yes. Especially when it comes to love.”
“But I hate Jackson Pierce. I even use my birthday wishes on him. Do you understand how serious that is? I get one birthday a year, one wish a year, and I use it on him. And you know what I wish?”
“What, baby? What do you wish?”
“For him to lose and for me to win, at everythin’ and anythin’. That’s not too much to ask, right? You would think it wouldn’t be, but the wish fairy ain’t listenin’ to me cuz sometimes I lose. Like today! Epic, epic loss!”
“Harley, maybe she’s right.”
“Shiloh, bite your tongue. I would never let him win—”
“No, not about that. About Jackson liking you. It kinda makes sense. He follows you around just waiting for you to react to him.”
“He does it to torture me.”
“Yeah, because you pay attention to him. I mean, how many Jackson Blockers has he broken since you started wearing them? He breaks them the second he sees them on you. Why? Because he doesn’t want you to ignore him.”
“Right, so he can keep torturin’ me.”
“No. So you can keep paying attention to him. I think Aunt Alex is onto something. Jackson likes you.”
Little did I know the next words that came out of Shiloh’s mouth would haunt me for the rest of my life.
When she added, “And maybe... he even loves you.”
Chapter 8
<>Jackson<>
Then: Ten years old
Nineteen...
Twenty...
Twenty-one...
Twenty-two...
Twenty-three...
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted, walking into her room.
It always took twenty-three steps.
Twenty-three seconds.
Twenty-three pounding heartbeats to get to see her again.
She looked up from whatever she was lost in and smiled at me. “Hi,” she breathed out with glossy, drained eyes.
&nb
sp; She always looked so tired, like she was constantly battling something within herself.
An all-out war for her sanity and peace of mind.
Turning away from her, I sat my backpack and the sunflowers I picked on the way over on the chair. Holding my head down for a few moments to catch some air.
Breathe in and out, Jackson.
In and out.
Just. Keep. Breathing.
I needed a second to get my shit together. I always did. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself this was going to get easier. It never did. If anything, it always got harder.
Nothing about the woman in front of me reminded me of my mother.
Her eyes.
Her smile.
Her laugh
Not even...
Her love.
“Don’t you have school?” she asked out of nowhere, making my eyes snap back to hers.
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. There was no hiding the relief I felt.
“I did. I came here right from school. It’s Friday. Your favorite day.”
She mirrored my expression, stating, “Because all my boys are home for two whole days.”
My eyes watered, there was no hiding that either. Feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion because she was having a good day.
I never knew what was worse... when she remembered or when she didn’t.
Me. Her. Us.
She still had more good days than bad. However, when they were bad, they were the worst.
“Yeah, Mom. Two whole days with all your boys home.”
“I cooked your favorite dinner. Pot roast with no carrots.”
I chuckled, “I hate carrots. They’re such a pointless vegetable. They taste like nothing.”
“But they’re so good for your mind. You need to be like your daddy, not like me. Never like me.”
“Mom, do you want me to brush your hair?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, yes! I’d love that,” she replied, her eyes sparkling.
I hated when she looked at me like that. As if she was trying to make a memory of my face, of this moment, of this day.
Of me.
She shouldn’t have to. She should just know.
But she didn’t.
Nothing about this was fair. Not when it all started, not when we found out what was happening, not anything that followed.
My feet moved on their own accord. Inch by inch, step by step, I made my way over to her with the sunflowers and brush in my hand.
Her eyes widened, beaming. “My favorite.”
I nodded. “Yeah, Mom. Sunflowers are your favorite.” My chest tightened with each second that passed between us.
Little by little, it felt as if I was losing more and more air the closer I got to her. My heart was in my throat, beating a mile a minute.
Breathe, Jackson. Don’t stop breathing.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard before I was standing in front of her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I’m fine.”
“Why do you look so sad?”
I opened my eyes, staring right into hers. “Cuz I love you,” I blurted without thinking.
“Honey, I love you too.”
I shut my eyes again, fighting back the tears.
Stay strong. You need to stay strong.
Kids should never have to experience this. No one should ever have to experience something like this. They say when you go through trauma—a drastic, life-altering change—you’re suddenly forced to grow up. Become wiser beyond your years. Mature in ways that didn’t make sense except to the people who may have experienced similar events.
All of that was true, but every time I was with her, I felt like the boy, the kid, the child I was supposed to be.
Her son.
Her firstborn.
Her favorite.
I wanted my mom back. I wanted her more than anything.
I had a life three years ago. I had everything I could ever ask for. I lived in a home full of love and laughter. We were a perfect family. My parents had a perfect marriage.
All of it now a distant memory.
Thinking about the way things used to be made my heart ache. At times, it hurt so bad, I couldn’t breathe. I had to remind myself to inhale and exhale.
In and out. In and out.
I woke up every night from nightmares and had no one to comfort me. No one to hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right.
No one to tell me they loved me.
That they would always love me.
My mother I’d known was gone, and I was left with nothing. With no one. The last thing I wanted was to cause her additional stress, knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. It was one of her biggest triggers, only causing her to leave me faster.
That’s what hurt the most.
Being alone with only my thoughts, my fears, the reality it could be me one day in her shoes. Laying in that bed, praying, hoping I would remember my life in the end.
I shook my head, trying to push what ate away at me every day.
My mind had become my own worst enemy.
Far greater than Harley Jameson could ever be.
“Jackson, come here, baby.”
I didn’t have to be told twice, and I went to her. Holding on for dear life.
Please... please don’t leave me.
“Shhh... it’s alright... I’m here...” she whispered, holding onto me just as tight. It was only then I realized I was crying.
“But for how long?”
“I don’t know, baby. I just don’t know anymore. I’m sorry, Jackson. I’m so sorry this is happening.”
I leaned into her embrace, soaking it up as much as possible until I couldn’t take it anymore, so I let it out.
I cried, harder and harder for I don’t know how long. She didn’t let go or push me away. If anything, she held me tighter, letting me sob for as long as I needed. Whispering reassuring words to help ease my pain and the hurt I felt all over.
“Please don’t leave me, Mom. I won’t make it without you. My heart hurts so much. Sometimes it hurts so bad that I feel like I’m dying, and it never ends. It’s there. In my mind. Thinking about you... about our family... about what’s going to happen when you’re not here anymore... I think about it all. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose myself,” I sobbed, unable to control my emotions and needing to tell her how I felt. “What is the point of living life if I may not remember it?”
I sucked in air, trying to find some sort of reassurance.
Waiting.
Feeling as though I was always waiting.
Her hold on me loosened, and I was suddenly filled with despair. Knowing what was coming. I shut my eyes tighter, holding onto her. Praying it would be enough to keep her there with me. That was the worst part of this, losing her over and over again.
“Mom... please... fight it... for me... please fight it for me...”
That one syllable.
Those three letters.
The first word I ever said.
The one she taught me, a word that was supposed to mean the world to her. Turned out to be her biggest trigger to leave me through it all.
But it wasn’t until she spewed, “I’m not your mother,” that she killed me once and for all.
“No! No! No! Don’t do this! Don’t do this to me! You’re in there! I know you’re still in there!”
“Get. Off. Me.”
“Mom, plea—”
“I said, get off me!”
I shuddered at the sound of her voice, her tone laced with nothing but anger and hate. It was so easy for her to lose control. In seconds, she’d go from being my mother to a woman I didn’t know. Who didn’t know me.
“Fight for me!” I shouted, trying to get through to her. “I’m your son! Your Jackson! I’m all you ever wanted! Remember me! Please just remember me!”
“Get out!” she seethed from deep insid
e her, vibrating my entire body. Gripping onto the side of my arms, she tried throwing me off, but I didn’t let go.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
Not when I’d just had her.
“I don’t know you! I don’t know you!”
“Yes, you do! You made me!”
“Get off!”
“Mom—”
“My name is Bailey! I’m not your mom! My name is Bailey! Get out! I said, get out!”
“NO!” I screamed with everything inside of me, my chest heaving, my heart breaking. “You’re my mom! You’re supposed to love me! Be there for me! That’s your job!” I sobbed uncontrollably, hanging on by a thread.
“Dr. Pierce!” she called out for a man who wasn’t even there. “Get him out! Get him out of here right now!”
“He’s not your doctor! He’s your husband! We’re your family!” I heaved, struggling to breathe in and out. To hold on to whatever I had left of her.
“Jackson, you can’t do this. It’s not good for her,” one of the nurses ordered, grabbing ahold of me. Prying me off her. “You have to go.”
“Fuck you! She’s my mother!”
“Not right now she’s not. You’re making matters worse!”
Tears flooded my eyes, spilling over and rolling down the sides of my face. “How can they get any worse than her not knowing who I am?!”
“I’m sorry, son, but you have to go.”
My fingers held onto anything I could, snatching the heart necklace from my mom’s neck. It was the only thing she had left from her childhood, belonging to her mother before she left her behind too.
“Don’t take me away from her! Please don’t take me away from her!”
I had no control over my emotions, not one.
“Keep him away from me! Keep him away from me!” she repeated in a tone that would forever haunt me. “I hate you! Do you understand me?! I. Hate. You!”
“Son, calm down!” I heard the nurse say over the ringing in my ears.
She hates me.
My mother hates me.
I stopped fighting, the wind knocked out of me. Every ounce of strength, of willpower, of love I had for her...
Was gone.
I watched her lose her mind.
Lose herself.
There was nothing left for me to do.
She was gone.
Again...
But for how long?
“I hate him! I never want to see him again! Don’t let him come back! Please! Just keep him away from me!”
