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“What are you talking about?” I stammer. “I’m not talking to anybody,” I say, taking a sip of the water I just got from the sink. The smell of dinner dissipates into thin air, and I know I will go to bed with an empty stomach, yet again.
“Don't you back sass me, Boy!”
“You asked, I answered.” My tone is low and calculated, eying the man in front of me who looks like hell now. As soon as my mother disappeared a few months ago, the man I knew gave into evil.
This man who used to be life-sized to me seems to be decaying right in front of me. He is glaring at me, maybe waiting for me to say something more, but I back away from him instead. I know I should say something, but I don't have it within me. I've seen too much, heard too much. I know this man means nothing good to me or to the brothers I recently learned about, some older, others younger. He was cheating on my mother all this time, and I think it’s why she left. I don’t know why she would leave me with him though. I still need to figure that out.
“You still thinking about that bitch who gave birth to you? Stupid! She didn’t care nothing about you. That is why she is gone! Let it go!”
“Like you give a shit about anyone but yourself, Dad!” My tone drips with sarcasm, and I laugh when the poor excuse for a man in front of me cringes. His face turns red at my laughter. “Who do you think I was talking to? Mom loved me! It was you she didn’t love. Better yet—”
He holds up a hand, stopping my diatribe. “I don't have time for this. I need to go.” He clears his throat and walks away for me, before coming back. He stares at me, his once blue eyes now void of life. “I have a meeting tonight—”
“You always have a meeting, Dad!”
“For fucks sake, stop calling me that.”
“What should I call you?” I spit back at him.
“Nevermind you that!”
He reaches for the copper chalice he’s been drinking from for the last couple of years. The liquid it holds is a dark burgundy, almost purple in color, and bubbles when he swirls it around the goblet. It smells of sulfur and fire. I don't know exactly what it is, but it has some evil magic that ties him to something other-worldly. He eyes me over the rim of the cup as he sucks in the elixir. I don't want any part of it, of this I am certain. I wanna smack the cup out of his withered hand. I feel anger boiling up inside of me, anger that I can't get rid of; it feels like something growing in my gut, and I just wanna rip it out. I need to talk to somebody about it.
Deep in my core, I hear the words my mother said to me; ‘a broken spirit and a contrite heart’. I remember she said something about turning to God with my questions. I’ve never been one to pray, but maybe now is that time. Before I can think about it further, there's a knock at the door. My dad's neck snaps in that direction, tearing his seething gaze from me. He screams, “Who the hell is it?”
I run to the door, without hesitation. He tries to beat me there, but I am younger and more able in body. I wrench open the door, and there are two official men standing there in full police gear. A woman stands in front of them, dressed in a business suit. It’s...my therapist. “Hello, Phoenix. I’m Claire from Children, Youth and Family Services.”
My father is hot on my heels and reaches the door as Claire introduces herself. “The fuck is this about?” he spits out his venom so that I feel his spittle on the back of my neck. I cringe and look up at Claire. I see the compassion in her eyes before she looks back at my father.
“Sir, we have had several complaints regarding domestic violence and neglect of a minor. We are here to inspect—”
“Inspect what!”
The cops close in on my father, and Claire takes my hand, pulling me from the house and from this dream.
Chapter 3
Phoenix Present Day
Iopen my eyes and look into Claire's warm, brown eyes. She smiles at me.
“You were there. You’ve been here since I was fourteen.”
She nods and offers me another glass of water. I sip it and feel it calm the burning inside.
That is how she knows what calms me, that is how she knows so much about my life.
“You took me in.”
“I did.”
“Why am I having so much trouble remembering?”
“It’s part of this curse, Phoenix. That is why we need to work through this to break it. It is now affecting your daughter as she gets older. You can’t be angry forever. You can’t let this fall off on her. It’s time. When your mother was talking about’ a broken spirit and a contrite heart, she was calling for you not only to ask for repentance for your sins but also to forgive those who have sinned against you. You learned this when you went to church too—”
“I don’t want to talk about that, Claire.” I stand, shoving my fingers through my hair, in much need of a haircut. It’s now falling past my ears, brushing my shoulders. “Look, I'm grateful for whatever it is you did for me in the past and what you are trying to do now, but I’m not, no Ican’t,dredge up that past. I don’t want to talk about Tamryn or my mother or the sperm donor with Grace. What good would any of it do? I am able to cool off this anger when she’s around. That should be good enough.”
“We both know it’s not. She doesn’t have a relationship with any of her uncles, her mother, and truth be told, Phoenix, her relationship with you isn’t healthy either.”
