by Yamaya Cruz
I heard loud, wicked cackles. They seemed to be aroused by my vulnerability.
“No, we are here to make sure that your soul burns in Hell!
“NO!” I screamed.
Someone was banging on the door.
“Nelly? Sky? Is everything okay in there?”
No, I wasn’t okay. I was locked in a room, alone, with the shadows. They all began to chant at once, sounding like a disjointed chorus. Then, they all took turns with their off pitched solos.
The first voice, a high soprano, wanted me to run out into the street and fling my body in front of the first moving car that I saw. This voice was soon interceded by a tonedeaf baritone that suggested that I escape and climb to the tallest building and throw myself off the edge.
“I don’t want to listen to you. I don’t want to listen to the shadows.”
A third voice chimed in, and suggested that I steal a razor blade, lock myself in the bathroom and slit both of my wrist. The two voices joined forces and began their maniacal duo.
“Only the crazy survive”
“The sane rot in Hell”
“The busted get placed in jail”
“And you ain’t never going to prevail, over the shadows” “Who do you think you are?”
“You think that you got what it takes to beat me?”
“Your soul is mine, and you ain’t ever going to be free.” “Cause you don’t got what it takes, to beat the shadows.” “Darkness will always destroy the light”
“Give up, girl, cause you don’t know how to fight.”
“Cause you don’t got what it takes, to beat the shadows.
The song ended with an earth shattering crescendo, “Give it up girl, you can’t fight, darkness will always destroy the light. The chorus chimed in with the reoccurring pitch, give it up girl, you ain’t right, jus kill ya self and it could all end tonight.”
“It could all end tonight” “It could all end tonight.” “It could all end tonight.”
It was truly unbearable for me. I wanted the voices to stop! I wanted to bring this all to an end, and the only way to do that would be to kill myself. Yes, that is what I needed to do! The door flung open. A featherweight man was standing in the middle of it. I clobbered him with my fist and pushed him down to the ground. I trampled over him like a doormat in a desperate attempt to escape. I had to do it. I had to end it all. He grabbed my leg and I fell to the ground. I began to crawl out the doorway kicking and screaming. My feet smashed into his face. He released me, and I shot up and began to run full force.
I continued down the hallway, testing the knobs to each bedroom door, only to find them locked. I ran into the recreation room and focused on throwing myself out of its only window. I screamed from aggravation once I learned that the window was barred from the outside. I began to punch the glass with the intentions of breaking the window. I needed to end this, now! The song was still playing in my mind.
“Give it up, girl; you can’t fight”
“And you ain’t ever going to find the light”
“Cause you don’t got what it takes, to beat the shadows.”
My fist soon became swollen and bloody from the cuts and the accumulation of fresh blood. I could feel the shadows moving around me. They started to grabble with me and one managed to pin me down to the ground. I struggled and cried out of frustration when I found that I couldn’t move my body. Suddenly, there was darkness and my body went numb. No! No! This is not what I wanted. I wanted it to end. I wanted it all to end.
Chapter Fourteen
"Dinner at six,” the attendant said before she slammed the door shut. I looked around the empty room. I had really set the world on fire. It was remarkable how my life went from bad to worse in a matter of minutes. I walked over and sat on my bed hunchback. I didn’t know how I felt. They had injected me with a bunch of shit. And then the next thing I knew I was committed to the psych ward at East Shore Medical Center. They told me that I had tried to commit suicide, that I had a violent outburst and attacked one of the night guards. But I didn’t remember any of it.
They had stripped me of everything: belts, shoelaces, and even my books. I guess they believed that I would beat myself to death with one of them. I sighed. This sucks. I thought that therapy was supposed to help me, but for some reason, it made everything worse. The memories were just too painful, and thinking about them aroused emotions that made me uncontrollable and violent. They put thoughts into your head, evil and wicked thoughts, a voice inside of me prattled.
I know, please don’t do this now. Just give me a few minutes of peace. I looked over at the digital clock on the mantle. It blinked, 4:30. I had plenty of time. The worse thing about being crazy and locked away was the time, I had too much of it. There was a tirade of thoughts going on in my head. One voice stood out. I jumped up, standing at attention like a soldier and perked my ears to try and concentrate on the voice. Was it mine? Or was it someone else’s? The explosion of voices made me feel lightheaded. I looked around the room confused. I sighed with relief when I realized that the sounds were coming from the clock radio. I must have left it on. I walked over to turn it off. When I heard it again.
“Nelly.” I flinched, like I had just placed my hand on a hot stove. No! It couldn’t be. Flustered, I adjusted the knob to try and get better reception. There was a whole bunch of voices, but they all sounded muffled, like they were drowning in a sea of static. Then I heard it, as clear as day.
“Nelly.” I jerked back and covered my mouth with my hands. I scurried to the far side of the room, like a frightened mouse. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Was someone really speaking to me through the radio?
“Nelly, it’s me.” The voice seemed to be yelling loudly over a vociferous mist. I lowered my hands, like a shield and walked closer to the radio.
“Momma.”
There was nothing.
“Momma,” I yelled again, hoping that I hadn’t lost her. “Nelly, I am here.” “Momma, you left me here, alone with the shadows.” “Shush, Nelly, you got to keep
quiet or they’ll hear you.” “I’m scared Momma, so scared.”
“I know baby, I know.
Chapter Fifteen
Luisa The most vivid memory that I have is of my abuela dying. I remember being very young, around five or six and I was roaming around the house like a ghost. There were two women engaged in a conversation.
“Does anyone know where the child is going to go?” The daughter asked. “They can’t find her momma, so she’s going to have to go Saint Alexis Children’s Home,” The mother replied. “They’re not going to try and find Maria?” “You mean that puta who left here with that crazy man Nico. She’s the last person
who needs to have a child.”
“Momma, you can’t say that, you don’t know her.”
The mother placed her hand on her hip and spun her neck sharply to the right. “I
know that she’s a damn fool, who helped Nico kill Elvisa.”
“Shoosh, momma, keep your voice down,” the daughter said placing her forefinger
on her lips. “We don’t need Nico’s bad spirits roaming around here.”
“Besides, Maria is a young girl, she didn’t know any better,”she continued. “A young girl, with a child and you mean to tell me that she didn’t know that Nico
was doing witchcraft on people?” The mother said.
“Alright momma, that’s enough already. You’ve made your point.” “Made my point? Making my point is not going to make that little girl’s momma
come back or bring Elvisa back to life, “she said.
“Oh my goodness,” the daughter muttered, shaking her head out of frustration. “You had it easy; you never had a hard day’s work in your life. You can’t begin to
know how it feels to grow up with nothing and nobody to take care of you.” “I know momma, you told me a thousand times.”
The mother and daughter duo continued. Their conversation came to a halt, wh
en
they realized that I was close by and listening. Their words stumbled out awkwardly as
they did their best to try and comfort me.
“Your abuela was great person,” the mother chimed. “Yeah, a real healer,” the
daughter added.
“She is always going to be with you, Luisa. She is always going to have a place right
inside there,” she said pointing to her heart.
I waited for Maria to come back to get me. I waited for her to attend my abuela’s
funeral, but she never did. I grew up alone, without her. She would occasionally send
Christmas and birthday cards with I love you, and I miss you sloppily etched on the
backside of them. I suppose that’s why I always called her Maria. I never really knew her
well enough to address her as mom. However, things changed one day when a full letter
arrived in the mail.
I gave it to Sister Abigail, the woman who had taken care of me and twelve other
girls in the home. She put on her cat rimmed glasses and read it slowly. Then she folded
it carefully and handed it back to me.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked her.
“I think that Maria has gotten herself into quite a bind,” she said.
“Well, should I go? “I asked.
Sister Abigail turned to face me. She was seated in an old wooden rocking chair. She
started to rock back and forth. She was in deep thought.
“Luisa, I understand that you are now eighteen and very capable of making your own
decisions. However, I want to remind you that this woman is very disturbed,” she said. “I know; that’s why I need to help her.” I pleaded.
“No, I don’t think that you understand what I mean. It’s not natural for a mother to
leave her child. I just feel that there’s something evil inside of her,” she said. I lowered my head. I knew that she wouldn’t understand.
“But, we’re family; she’s my mother,” I said with my voice cracking. “No. Luisa. She stopped being your mother when she decided to leave you,” she
said. There was a long silence. Sister Abigail cleared her throat.
“Luisa, there is something that you should know. For years, I had hoped and prayed
that you had forgotten about the early years of your life, but it is evident that you
haven’t,” she said while folding her hands in her lap.
“You have been raised as a Catholic, and I am very pleased with your
accomplishments despite your background,” she said.
“My background?” I asked.
“Well, yes. You see you are a descendant of Ham and as you know Ham was cursed
by—”
“His father Noah.” I interjected. I was slowly losing patience with her. I had listened
to these stories all of my life, and they didn’t make me feel any better about myself. “Yes, I know that we’ve been through this before. But you have to understand,
Luisa, that the only way to break this curse is to completely free yourself from sin,” she
said.
I folded my arms across my chest. I couldn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed. I
didn’t know how to tell her that I needed more than Jesus. I needed to feel loved, and I
needed to belong to something.
“Luisa, you have to understand one thing about your past, about your family. They
were involved in an occult that was not highly regarded by the church,” she said. “You mean an occult that helped to heal slaves.” I quipped. Sister Abigail spun her
head around.
“Those false Gods didn’t keep your ancestors from being slaves. They didn’t keep
your mother from running away, and they haven’t giving you any answer as to who your
father is,” she snapped.
“Luisa, you need to understand that these practices, this Satanism, the worshipping
of false Gods have only made things worse. It’s nothing but trickery and enchantment.
None of it is real. You have to understand that,” she said.
The only thing that you have right here, at this very moment is our Savior, Our Lord
Jesus Christ. He’s the one who rescued you from sin. And He’s the only one who can
save you now,” she continued.
I shook my head. I felt hopeless. She didn’t understand me. She could never know
how it felt to wake up every day and feel alone. I wanted to stand up and scream at her
that I was miserable and that I hated my life here. She would only reply that I was
ungrateful and that I should be happy with whatever the Lord had blessed me with, Being
that I was a black girl with no family.
“Luisa, there’s an emptiness inside of you. And you feel like you can fill it by having
a relationship with your mother. But trust me when I tell you that the only love that you
need is from the Lord. Trust in him, surrender to him and the pain and longing will go
away,” she said, reaching over and stroking my hand.
I shook my head. I got up and turned to walk away. She watched me as I started
toward the stairway. Her eyes were burning the back of my head as I took a detour and
headed straight for the front door.
“Luisa, don’t do this,” she said.
“Luisa, if you go out that door, don’t ever come back!” She yelled.
I rushed out the door and picked up the suitcases that I had packed earlier. I had
trusted in the Lord for thirteen years, now it was time to trust myself. I moved quickly
without looking back.
~ ~ ~
Chapter Sixteen
I arrived at the airport and it was packed with people. They all walked around, heading this way and that, pulling luggage, and carrying briefcases.
I heard someone calling my name.
“Luisa! Luisa!” I turned around in slow circles, trying to find the voice that matched the face.
I spotted a rather plump woman wearing an old wool pea coat. She was holding a child of about three in her arms. She tried to take off and run to meet me but ended up wobbling and panting halfway across the floor.
“Luisa, it is so good to see you,” she said coming towards me while trying to catch her breath.
I forced a smile. I couldn’t believe this was Maria. She looked so different! She had put on at least a hundred pounds since the last time I saw her. Her once beautiful eyes were shrunken; her delicate cheekbones were lost in a mangled and round face. She had a bulbous nose. And a double chin that wobbled when she moved her neck. My arms circled around three-quarters of her body as I struggled to embrace her and the child she was holding.
“Luisa, let me look at you,” she stepped back and whistled.
“Que Linda. Por la maseta,” she said.
I blushed and looked down at my feet. I was very modest. “Mommy you’re hot!” She said, while walking around me with the baby in her arms.
“Bitch you’re on fire. Está que estilla. I am gonna have to work hard to keep all these hot bloodied hombres off of your little ass,” she said laughing, a little too loudly.
There were people standing next to us. They gave us a look of abhorrence before they hurriedly walked away.
I blushed again, but this time I was embarrassed.
“Hay Luisa, Chica, we’re going to have to break you in, you can’t be shy around here, mommy.”
She grabbed my arm and began to guide me to a huge red sign that read exit. Our arms were intertwined. Her body gave off a musty smell. Her dress was faded and spotted with old condiment stains. I covered my nose.
“Maria, you never introduced me to this little guy.” I asked, happy that I had found an excuse to pull away. I was hoping that maybe she was babysitting him. Maria looked down at the ch
ild like he was a bag that she had forgotten.
“Oh, girl, this is one of my ejios, Julio”
“Julio?” I stood there and looked at her in silence. She had children?
“You’re gonna meet your brothers; I left em in the car” she said casually.
Brothers! What? I couldn’t believe it. She had left me with nothing and no one and yet she had given birth to other children. I shook my head and made a piteous attempt to try and mask my anger and disappointment before I asked her another question.
“How many children do you have? Maria,” I said.
“Girl, call me momma,” she said forcing a smile and caressing my arm. “And I have four boys, and of course you, which makes five,” she said lightly.
Five kids! I couldn’t believe it. Julio seemed to be choking on the lollypop that was wedged in his mouth. “Are you okay?” I asked out of concern.
“Girl, ain’t no use doing that. The damn boy don’t talk; he just whines all fucking day. The only way that I can get him to shut up is to stick candy in his mouth,” she said pulling me toward the exit sign.
“Ain’t no pain, like a whining ass child. They really wear down your nerves,” she said.
I rolled my luggage behind me and jumped when Maria dashed out of the double glass doors.
“Shit,” she yelled as she ran over to a Ford Comet Station Wagon. She snatched off a yellow ticket that was tucked under the windshield wiper.
“Fucking cops, they don’t have shit else to do but to go around and give folks tickets”
I looked around, there were a crowd of people who were waiting outside for either a taxi, bus, or loved one. They looked very uncomfortable and pretended that they had not seen Maria’s odious display.
“Luisa,” Maria yelled as she opened the driver’s door.
“Let’s get the hell out of here before those damn pigs gives me another ticket”
A few people in the crowd turned to look at Maria and then over at me. All the blood in my body rushed to my face as I hurriedly walked over to the car. I went to put my bags in the trunk, when I opened the rear hatch and three human heads popped up.
“BOO!”
I screamed, startled to see that there were children in the trunk. “Kids, you know better than that,” Maria said while looking into the rear view mirror and sending them a look of death.
