For a long time I didn’t think much of my life. Every day was the same, and at that point that’s all there was. Adding insult to injury is simply his way of doing things. Never knew what it meant to be truly loved till her.
The day began with a weary shadow. Clouds blanketed the morning sky. The wind gave a howl like a banshee in the night waking me before it was needed. The old clock above my pedestal read five when I was to awake around six. Sighing, I rested my head upon my pillow to doze for my remaining hour.
As hard as I tried I just couldn’t fall back asleep. At first I thought it was the wind wailing at my window pane. That proved wrong. An odor began to raise in the room. It was subtle at first, but quickly grew much stronger. It wasn’t revolting, only strange. I had never smelled it before. My next guess was perfume and to that I stand.
The odor grew so strong that I felt like I was going to suffocate to death! I threw open the window hoping for a breath of air, but the smell didn’t recede. Instead it grew fouler until I could no longer breath. I ran out the door and down the stairs nearly tripping over my own two feet! When I reached the front door I burst through it grasping for breath!
Slowly I regained my composure. With the wind in me again I fell to the earth enjoying every inhale I took. The morning dew had turned to frost, the breeze chilling me to the bone. Even so I don’t believe I felt the cold at that moment. It’s strange I know, but some how my heart felt warm.
Perplexed by the feeling I gently made my way to a sitting position. Never before had I felt that way. At the time I didn’t like it. My chest felt heavy and tears began to weld up in my eyes.
I slowly whipped them away. Never knowing warmth I felt intoxicated. Ready to pour out my emotions on a moment's notice. There was always a space for me to push all my sorrow away. I could feel the cold howl of the wind against my bare back now. Shivering I got to my feet.
As I motioned for the door I stopped. The howl had become a moan. It sounded so real my heart skipped a beat. Screeching! Yelling at me! Calling my name! I covered my ears in an attempt to drown it out, but to no avail. Every second it grew louder till I could no longer hear myself think!
Then, I saw something. A ghostly figure. Pale as the eye could see, frail to the bone. Her dress flew with the wind as did her golden hair. Her eyes, they were closed, like she was sleeping. Suddenly, they opened! The wind picked up! The shutters upon the window crashed, the wind chimes fell from their perch, and the leaves upon the ground began to swirl around her!
“Warren!” she called. “Warren!”
The figure flew right at me. I was struck with fear! I closed my eyes to brace what was coming! But nothing happened. Slowly I peeked out with one eye. Nothing, emptiness, a vacuum. She was gone though I had just seen her as bright as day. Then it hit me, the cold, terrible cold. It wasn't from the chilling breeze. It seemed to be coming from my very soul.
Burning, yet chilling to the bone at the same time! Pain rushed through my body! It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside! My soul was being ripped from my very being! I clung to myself thinking to relieve the pain! I fell to the ground! Rolling back and forth I screamed out in agony! Everything began to spin and I nearly fell unconscious.
I awoke almost immediately after. At first I couldn’t remember what had just happened. It took a minute for it all to sink in. The pain, screaming, emptiness. I help myself as small comfort. I then started to cry.
At that exact moment something hit me, hard. I looked up to see my dad hovering over me. He was large in more ways than one. He was the heaviest person I had every known, but he was tall too.
“What are you doing on the ground you good for nothing brat?” The smell of alcohol was already potent on his breath. “Go, get dressed!” He shoved me inside slamming the door behind me.
Before heading upstairs I looked back. I had a cold sweat and was breathing irregularly. I was pondering weather or not the events that had just transpired were real or not. I decided it was all in my head and went upstairs. As I turned on the shower I noticed I was covering in small scratches. With a groan I stepped into the steaming water, the past events in the back of my head.
I left the house immediately after finishing breakfast. I had no desire to be near that abusive man. With my bag on my back and my coat zipped up to the top I started down the winding dirt road. Slowly it inclined until I was walking up Riken Hill.
Riken Hill rose not far from my house. It had become my home away from home. It was a place I could go when ever my father came home drunk, was beaten, or simply needed a place to sit and think. Atop it stood a large oak tree, an unmarked grave below.
When I had reached the top the oak was barren. The leaves had left with the summers passing. I stood over the grave, hands in my pockets. The wind brought a whisper to my ear and I turned. Nothing. Once again the grave became my only focus. It seemed like I had stood there for hours.
Finally I moved from my trance and placed my bag upon the ground. I unzipped the top and took out a noose. Fiddling it in my hands I spoke at the grave, “All he ever does is hit me, the drunken fool. He threw his life away with ours. Now I’m going insane.” Slowly I made my way up the tree until a sat above the grave. “Soon mom, soon.” I tied the rope around the tree branch and fitted the loop around my neck. After a deep breath I jumped, but I landed on the ground.
Grabbing the rope I realized it had been cut. The wind picked up again and I turned my gaze forward. The ghostly woman was there again, only this time she wasn’t so frightening. Her pale skin had become a tan color, what was once bone was now flesh.
She smiled at me with warmth I had never felt before, “Don’t give up hope my son. Life is for you. That’s why I gave my life for yours. Take your sorrow and teach others of your pain. Make yourself a place in this world as I have prayed for years.” With that she disappeared for the last time. She claimed to be my mother, and for some reason I believed her. For the first time I smiled with all the love in my heart.
From that day forward I did as she asked. I integrated myself with society becoming a counselor for the physically abused. I devoted my life to helping those who went through the same experiences as me.
My father was put away and I was raised by my uncle who taught me who my mother really was. She turned out to be a nurse at the local hospital when she met my father who was in rehab. When she died in labor he took up his habit again and took his sorrow out on me. I didn’t blame him nor myself. Life, I learned, works in mysterious ways. Faith can sometimes be the only push we need, At last I understood, and I owed my life all to God’s Angle.
