Philosophy of the Dark
Chapter 40
-Are you my Mother?
-On Both Accounts
The countdown begins. Two weeks, fourteen days. Not nearly enough time to prepare for him to come back.
It’s like these past few months have all been a blur. Court, home, life. Everything blending into the other until nothing was clear any more. All that has led up to this, the moment that will change everything.
Richard’s coming back. He’s going to be home, like he used to be. He’s going to be near me again.
I should have told them everything. About the rape. I should have told the court, then he would be far, far away from me forever .Then I would be safe. I should have told Tammy about more than just the abuse, I should have told dammit. But now that chance is gone, anybody I tell now wont believe me.
Two weeks. Fourteen days.
A lifetime of countdowns leading to the inevitable downfall.
But who’s?
***
There was a burn on the wall above the stove in the kitchen. An attempt to burn down the house, thwarted by the smoke alarm and fast neighbors. Jamie traced over the red-brown stain, feeling the roughness of the burnt plaster. She would have to re-paint over this no doubt.
Her mom was upstairs, cleaning every room she could get her hands on as furiously as possible. She wanted the house to be spotless for when he came home.
Jamie went up to her room. Her four walls of sanctuary. The light walls gave none of the comfort as they had when they were dark. When the room was the escape into another world. Her world.
She dropped the notebook back on her desk, and dropped to the blood red floor. Her heart hadn’t calmed down yet, it’s furious beating promised high blood pressure. Her palms were sweating, butterflies tore her insides apart with nervousness.
“Don’t you dare say a word.”
He was climbing on top of her. His body pressing against hers. She could feel what he wanted, his hands wandered over her body.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
It was as if she were on the outside, looking over at the two bodies pressed together on the floor. She knew what would happen, what he would do, and where.
He would finish, stand up, pull up his pants and walk away without a single word.
Not even a goodnight.
Tears crept down her face as she crawled across the floor where he had pinned her. Held her, hurt her. She climbed up to her bed, where she was safe. Far away from the ground and it’s memories.
There were three soft knocks on the door before it opened. Mary peeked her head in the door, her face softened when she saw Jamie.
“Honey,” she said cautiously.
Jamie picked her head up off the damp pillow and glared at her mom.
“So what, are you on my side now? Now that he’s coming back.”
Mary stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, “Baby, you can’t blame me for being happy.”
“Why not?” Jamie asked. She sat up, hugging a pillow over her stomach.
“We’re going to be a family again. It’s all I ever wanted, you know. A family.”
“Even if it means turning against each other?”
“If it will bring us closer.” Mary climbed up on the bed next to Jamie.
“How’s that supposed to bring us closer?” Jamie was holding the tears back, but her voice showed it.
“It’s bringing your father back to us. And when he is back, things will be different. You’ll see. We can be happy again.”
“Again?” Jamie asked skeptically.
“Again,” Mary promised. She hugged her daughter tightly, making up for lost time.
Jamie could feel it rising inside her, anger held back along with other emotions. Her blood boiled with it, her mind clouded in a sea of things she never let through. She pulled out of the hug, and met her mothers blue-green eyes.
“We were never really a family,” she said. It was quiet, almost inaudible. “We never will be a family. There’s no way that will ever work.” Jamie’s voice rose. “You know it as much as I do that nothings going to change, I wont be safe in this house.”
“Jamie,” Mary said, looking at her daughter as if she had never seen her before. “You can always protect yourself. There are worse things than a little abuse. It’s just his anger issues, but he’ll get a therapist. Everything will be fine, I pro-”
“Don’t.” Jamie put up one hand to silence her mom. “Don’t promise things you don’t know a thing about.”
“I do know though,” Mary said. She tried hugging Jamie, but she backed away.
“You don’t have a clue, otherwise we would be far away from him. Not cleaning, and waiting for his arrival.”
“Jamie, Honey.” Mary’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears, “I just don’t want you to have to go though what I did. I grew up without a father, and it killed me inside, not having that love. I want you to know the love of a father like I never did.”
“With Richard?” Jamie jumped down from the bed and picked up her notebook. “Never. If that’s what you call father love, then count me out. If you want me to stay here, then he has to go.”
“He’s not going anywhere.” Mary’s tone went from loving to fierce in four words. Her eyes were intent on Jamie, judging her reaction.
“Then I am,” Jamie said. Her mouth was in a tight line as she fought to show no emotion. She tried to look perfect while she was breaking down on the inside.
“You’re not leaving again,” Mary said. “If you learn anything from me, I want it to be never to run away. I’m tired of your actions.”
“Never run away?” Jamie felt the tears growing heavy in her eyes, it wouldn’t be long until they spilled, she was just hoping she would be alone for that. “Mom, you should have run away. A long time ago. You know what he was like, and you brought a child into this world because of your damn morals. Do you even know what I’m running from?” Jamie held up the journal, torn at the edges. The inside pages were just at messed up. Torn, scratched, covered in black ink run together by tears. Sometimes Jamie felt as if she and the journal were more alike than she thought.
Finally tears came, gushing out of her eyes. Making her already puffy red face, splotchy. With the tears though came a sense of calm. Sad enough, they were familiar, something she could always count on to flood her thoughts away.
“You know what?” She asked, tossing the notebook on the bed with her mother, “There’s no way you would know, because you don’t really care. All you want is a family, no matter what the family may be like. And I feel sorry for you, that you’ll never know what it’s like to be safe, or surrounded by love. Instead you get fear, and pain. But I’ll stay. I don’t really know why, but despite everything we’ve been through, I pity you. I pity that you can’t be stronger.”
The tears had dried out, too much crying lately and not enough liquid. Mary jumped down from the bed, keeping her glossy gaze on Jamie as she walked to the door, shaking her head slightly.
“I hate you.” Mary turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
***
Truth can be pain, but sometimes it’s a choice of the lesser evil. Telling the truth can be the most painful thing in the world, more painful than a lie. Sometimes it would be easier to lock everything up and not say a word, rather than just one truth. Only truth can do what pain and silence can’t; it can save lives.
I’m hoping I’ve helped her realize what the situation really is. Cleared the fog in her mind to let reality swipe in just once.
Pain and silence can be forced into the mind, immediate changes. Truth has to be accepted.
I’m tired of sitting back and crying myself to dehydration. I’m tired of hoping somebody will come along and make everything all right. Hope; my lovely but impossible religion.
Hope has been shattered. At first I was my hope, I could fight back. Then it was Tammy, to save me from everything and take me away. I’ve lost all hope now, and maybe that’s a good thing. This way if something goes wrong I can’t be disappointed.
I’m tired of letting the world pass me by, while I scream for help. I’m tired of relying on everybody but myself. I have only me to help now, and I may fail, but at least there’s nobody else to blame.
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Next:
Chapter 41
-At Long Last
