by C L Walker
For a time, I convinced myself that she wasn’t in control, and I forgave her because I didn’t know how else to go on or deal with the hurt. As the months went by, the alcohol kept chipping away at her personality, her smile, and eventually she became someone entirely foreign to me.
That night eight years ago when I had seen Micah at the creek, it was the first time she had hurt me physically since I had tried to tell our school counselor months before.
I had been at my breaking point that night, I finally realized that my mother was no longer there, that my pleas meant nothing to her, and that there was nothing I could do to bring her back.
The injuries kept occurring, not weekly, not even monthly but here and there throughout the years when everything came to a boil and I still forgave her because it was better for me to do so.
Perhaps Micah was right, I didn’t know for sure that she would have killed herself if I told on her again, but it was too late to ponder because none of it mattered anymore. I couldn’t get my childhood back and my relationship with my mother couldn’t be repaired when she was still yet to change.
It wasn’t fair, I lost my entire family that day, including her.
The hardest part for me to deal with, was not their deaths as tragic as they were, the hardest part is that I was left with her and all I ever wanted was for her to love me and she didn’t.
She only had enough room in her heart for dead people.
“How dare you!” she shouted so loudly it finally shocked me out of my inner thoughts.
“It’s true and you know it,” he said coldly.
“Get the hell out of my house, Jack!” She slipped in the eggs when she tried to flip her chair back over.
But he stood his ground with his hands on his narrow hips as he said firmly, “No.”
She ran up to him and started punching his chest as tears streamed down her face and he let her, it was the first honest thing I had ever seen occur between them and it made me feel like I shouldn’t be there.
I ran back to my room and slipped on a hoodie and jumped out my window with a notebook and pencils.
It was ten-thirty in the morning, and the sun was shining through the trees as I walked down the gravel road that weaved through the trailers. Then I walked down the main road towards the public beach on the lake so I could sit on the docks and look out over the water.
Once there I walked through the dewy patch of grass where people often picnicked before I kicked off my flip flops and left them in the sand to dry.
I walked to the end of the dock, sat down, and let my feet dangle over the dark water that had steam rolling off it.
I closed my eyes and tried to feel anything beyond my own guilt over my dad’s and Brian’s death. I didn’t want to allow my negative feelings to consume me, but it was hard sometimes because it was easy to let her make me feel like it was all my fault. She hadn’t said as much but I wondered if that’s what she thought.
I also didn’t want to feel like I wasn’t good enough for her because it was her who wasn’t good enough for me. I often struggled with feeling like I was unworthy because it was hard when I had lived a life without receiving love from the one person who should have had the easiest time giving it to me. It made me wonder at times if there was something wrong with me that made it difficult for her to love me.
Am I loveable?
I pushed the thought away as I let my mind wander somewhere else and naturally it went to Micah and I realized he might be why I had forgotten about Brian’s birthday. He was distracting in every sense of the word and it tripped me up having him around.
I imagined the intensity of his eyes; the words he spoke and felt something bloom inside me all over again. It was chaotic but warm, heavy but uplifting, it made no sense but when I looked in his eyes, I felt weak in such a way that I had never experienced before.
It wasn’t a weakness that resembled anything near what my mother made me feel, it was a weakness that begged me to submit. But I refused to give up the fight, he was the one person I was determined to outplay even if the odds were stacked against me.
I opened my notebook and gazed out across the water as I tried to think of something to draw that didn’t have a chiseled jawline and eyes that looked as if they saw through to the soul that flickered within me.
I imagined a water nymph arising from the depths with hair that flowed all around her, it was dark blue in color, almost a sapphire with lighter blue flowers that bloomed around her head in the shape of a crown that was constantly flowering.
I did my best to recreate what was in my mind and it didn’t turn out half bad. It was worthy enough to go into my folder along with many other pieces that I thought one day I would use in my portfolio for college if I ever went. But I couldn’t see myself going and I stuck them in there to shelve away like pieces of a dream that could never be realized.
Whenever I imagined the future, I saw myself taking care of my mother even though I didn’t want to. I felt guilt over leaving her, but I didn’t know why because she could be the one trying to leave me.
I had to be determined to live with that guilt no matter how things played out so I could paint a new future without her in it.
I just needed to see it.
I needed to believe I could reach it.
But I had other worries, because I wasn’t confident that I could function normally and do what everyone else my age did. Could I go to college, pursue a career, have meaningful relationships, and have a family? I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a good mom and it terrified me to think that I could ruin someone’s childhood.
I shook myself because I was tired of all the negative emotions. I could argue with myself all day about what might happen and what I may be capable of but in the end, it changed nothing.
It’s funny how people do that, spend so much time worrying about hypothetical situations and the what ifs of life, when we have no choice over anything other than what we do with ourselves in any given situation. Our freedoms in life are always limited by so many outside factors, such as the people who ultimately took part in shaping who we are even on the inside, in a space no one should be able to touch.
After some time, I gathered my things and stretched my body before I made my way back.
When I got there, it was two o’clock and the house was quiet, so I checked my mom’s bedroom since the door had been left open and discovered no one was there. I figured they must have made up and went out together, which suited me fine.
I made toast and took a longer shower than I was normally allowed even though I was the one who would probably end up paying for it when the water bill went up.
Once I was back in my room, I stuffed my drawing away and pulled out my stash of money. It was in an envelope inside a hidden compartment of an old jewelry box I had found in an antique shop.
I didn’t keep the money in my bank account because my mother monitored it, so it came down to either risking it possibly getting stolen at school by carrying it around or leaving it at home where she might find it. I thought home was a bit safer because even though she liked to tear apart my room on occasion, the secret compartment was yet to be discovered.
I heard laughter outside and a moment later the front door opened so I quietly shut my door before I ran back to my money.
I struggled to put it away and I had barely gotten the hidden compartment closed when someone opened my door, and it banged against the wall that was already broken in from that same action repeated on it so many times.
When I turned around my mother stood in the doorway as she sneered down at me. “Where did you run off to this morning? Hmm? Off to see that boy again?”
She said ‘that boy’ like she didn’t know very well who Sai was.
“No, I just went for a walk.” I got up and walked to the door with my head held high enough to have some dignity but not high enough for her to notice what I was doing. “I ended up sitting by the docks for a time.”
; “Sure, you did.” She looked me up and down before she smirked and leaned against the door to block my way.
She was drunk, I could tell by the smell of vodka on her breath, and by the red hue of her cheeks that were also shiny from sweat. The color of her skin made her appear sickly most days.
Finally, after staring at me for so long I almost started to squirm, she asked, “Is he a good fuck then?” She tilted her head obnoxiously. “Do you spread them legs for all the boys or just him?”
I didn’t even know where to start, or which question I should even bother answering at all because I already had many times before, and I got the feeling she didn’t care for the answers.
She was determined to think the worst of me.
I heard Jack laughing from the kitchen and it encouraged her to further her assault as I remained quiet and still. I was well prepared to ride out the storm, as I had done it many times before.
She walked forward and got in my face and I could see the rage in her eyes. She had been angry at me that day, not Jack, and I regretted thinking I might slip by unscathed for once. But it was stupid to think she would leave me alone just because they had fought, because I was still enemy number one.
“I asked you a question.”
Two questions. She had asked me two.
“I don’t know and no, because I’ve never slept with anyone.”
“Bullshit!” She put her palm on my forehead and pushed me back.
I stumbled over my mattress, but I recovered my balance and remained standing.
“It’s true but either way, seeing as how I’m almost an adult I don’t see why it matters to you what I do with my body.” I hated how timid I sounded.
She laughed loudly and covered her mouth with her soft pink nails that she had made me pay for.
“You keep saying that lately. Almost an adult this, almost an adult that… What do you think is going to change, Skylar? Do you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think you deserve a better life than me?” Spit flew out of her mouth and hit me in the face.
I closed my eyes, and I took a step back as I shook my head again in answer because she looked like something wild and unpredictable. Maybe that was why I couldn’t see my future because my worst fears were that I would never make it out of there alive.
“Say something!” Her hand went to my throat and she pushed me against the wall. “You stupid fucking little girl, you’ll rot in this town just like I did, I promise you that much.”
For a time, I had thought it was just the alcohol talking but I realized eventually that I was wrong. She had been a happy woman who was full of love but after tragedy struck, she slowly let the pain fester into a deep-seated anger that gave new life to the monster that had always been dormant inside.
The monster had only remained hidden because things had been going the way she had wanted them to, she had lived a privileged life up until the moment they had died.
I had dethroned the queen with a single tear that had been shed over a birthday cake.
There were plenty of people in our world that came out of unspeakable horrors with kindness still in their hearts and the will to go on but not her.
She dug her nails into my neck and applied enough pressure to block off my airway.
I tried to push her away, but she pushed her body into mine and trapped my other arm as my vision began to swim.
My eyes went black and next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor probably just a few seconds later. It wasn’t the first time she had choked me until I passed out, so I knew I was never out for very long.
She stood over me with a look of disgust on her face as if my losing the ability to function when being choked was somehow a weakness I alone possessed.
“Go do the fucking dishes you left in the sink. I do enough for you already, I’m not cleaning your shit too,” she said, before she walked away.
They weren’t even my dishes, I never forgot to do mine out of fear, but it wasn’t like I could point that out to her.
I stayed where I was on the floor as I clutched my throat and tried to calm down. I needed to catch my breath, but my heart was racing, and my thoughts were going a mile a minute.
What I wouldn't do is allow myself to cry because doing so would get me mocked and possibly hit again.
When I finally made it to the kitchen five minutes later, she was nowhere to be seen but Jack was lying on the couch in his underwear as he flipped through channels on the tv.
“Your mom is taking a bath, don’t give her any more trouble, she’s had a rough day,” he said, after he heard me turn on the water in the kitchen.
Oh, so now you care about how she is. Hypocrite!
I clenched my fists and bit my tongue; I had a harder time not fighting back against him because he was nothing to me. He had no right telling me to leave her alone after what he had said to her that morning.
Even though I hated how she thought she was the only one with any pain, it still didn’t make what he had done to her right. If your partner is grieving, you’re supposed to let them and hold them through it.
I was loading the dishwasher when he came up behind me and rubbed his crotch on my ass as he bent forward to put his cup in the sink.
I jumped to the side before I turned to face him as he snickered under his breath.
“What, sugar?” He tried to look innocent. “I was just tryin’ to put my cup away.”
“You could have waited you piece of shit,” I spat back as I kicked the dishwasher closed with the back of my heel.
“What the fuck did you just call me?” he asked, and he blocked me from leaving the kitchen.
“A. Piece. Of. Shit.”
He turned to check on the door to the bathroom, it was still closed, and the water was still going so he knew he had some time before she was out.
When he turned around and slammed me into the fridge, I wasn’t expecting it, so I yelped before he put his hand across my mouth.
“Shush now, girl,” he whispered, and his other hand found its way across my shirt and he squeezed my breast painfully.
I tried to push him off, but he was bigger than me, and stronger.
He dipped his finger into my shirt, pulled it away from my body and gazed inside as he whistled. “Damn I knew they would be purdy,” he said, before he let my shirt go and dragged his palm down my torso.
The more I squirmed the more he chuckled as he made his way to a place that I didn’t think I could stand him touching.
He got to the waistband of my pajama pants and I panicked, which in turn gave me some much-needed strength. I headbutted him right before his fingers passed the band and stepped away from him as he hissed in pain and covered his head.
There was no blood, but his forehead was dark red and there was sure to be a bump the next morning.
He took a step toward me but then we both jumped when someone or something knocked what sounded like our garbage can over on the side of the trailer.
A second later I heard cats fighting and mentally thanked them for the distraction as I took the opportunity to run to my room and lock the door behind me.
A minute later he jiggled the handle and when it wouldn’t open, he said, “I’ll get you soon enough.”
After he walked away, I curled up into a ball and hoped that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to follow through on his threat as I finally allowed myself to cry.
Happy Birthday, Brian. I wish you were here.
Ten
Skylar
I was in a daze all day after I had been up most of the night prior because I had been listening for noises in the trailer. Every time I heard footsteps going to the bathroom, I froze in fear of them heading towards my room. My door had been locked, but it was also flimsy, and I knew it did little in keeping me safe from their reach.
All night her words kept repeating in my mind: ‘Do you think you deserve a better life than me?’
If I was being honest the answer was no. But I also knew th
at answer came from a place of childhood trauma and it wasn’t how I should have thought about myself.
Sometimes I felt like it was just our fate, my mother and I, like things could never be any different for either of us. That I’d die living just as I had been, alone, and I’d leave this world never knowing what it could be like to have someone by my side that knew everything and loved me still.
The things she had said made me feel like she was willing to do everything in her power to make sure that I didn’t have a better life than her. I liked to think she would never go as far as to kill me so that I couldn’t leave but there was also a time in our lives when I never would have thought it were possible for her to hurt me at all.
One thing was for sure, I was the last thing in her life that she had control over so if I got out that door before her she was going to crack.
“You look like shit,” Micah said as he sat down.
I gave him some side eye, but he didn’t notice so I said, “I know.”
I had put on makeup to cover up the evidence of my long night and I tried my best to cover the marks on my neck, but I had to resort to keeping my hair down around my face for extra cover.
I thought it was working well to hide the truth and it had worked well enough until Micah, but of course he saw right through the layers of makeup to the exhaustion beneath.
Mr. Burks walked in and announced that we were heading to the library to work on our projects, so everyone filed out behind him.
Micah and I were the last out since we sat in the back of the classroom, he walked there slowly, and I walked even slower behind him as I stared at the back of his head.
I was too tired to deal with him, he hadn’t said much but I was already irritated with him because it was easy to do so. I could despise him no problem, as it was the ultimate distraction from everything else that was complicated in my life.
He must have felt the daggers I was shooting with my eyes at the back of his head because he randomly turned around and narrowed his own eyes.
