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“He’d leave from time to time, stay away for weeks in a row, doing God knows what. During those weeks, we could breathe. Then he’d come back, and somehow things were even worse than before. Hit, leave, come back, repeat.”
I took a deep, broken breath, trying to clear my head so I could narrate the past without reliving it. It wasn’t an easy job when the past involved seeing your mom walking toward death with each beating.
“I was four when I first tried to protect my mom. That was when he broke my nose. When I was five, he started using his belt. That damn belt with the big buckle,” I cursed through gritted teeth. “I think he was bored by only throwing fists. He’d hit me with his fucking belt wherever he could reach. Sometimes it was my back, sometimes it was my legs, sometimes my belly. When I was seven, he twisted my arm so hard that it broke.
“But the worst part was when my mom tried to intervene. It was frightening. I think he liked when she did that, it was a game for him. He’d beat her up in front of me and drag her to the bedroom. I’d hear her muffled cries through the locked door as I banged on it, begging him to stop.”
I could feel my shirt getting wet over my shoulder where she leaned her head. She was mostly silent, except for her soft sniffling.
“One night, he beat us up so hard. It was right before my birthday. I don’t even remember why, and that doesn’t even matter, because he didn’t need a good reason for that, he’d just unleash hell. It was so bad that she could barely walk and my back was raw from the belt. Still, she baked me a cupcake the next day for my birthday, and we drank lemonade. He wasn’t home, having gone away for one of his escapades. She put on a happy face for me, and we celebrated.” Despite my best efforts, I was trembling, dreading what was to come. “That night, she lay down on my bed beside me and kissed my cheek, but instead of saying goodnight as she used to, she told me she loved me and that she was sorry.”
I could feel my nose sting, and my throat constricted. We spent a few minutes in silence, and not even once did she urge me to go on. I fell for her even more. After getting a grip on my emotions, I resumed.
“When I woke up, she wasn’t with me. I found her on her bed and thought she was asleep. The day went by, and she didn’t move, but she was so tired and hurt, I couldn’t disturb her. So, I waited a little more. Hours later, I went to her again; I wanted to tell her she needed to eat. That’s when I noticed her shirt was a little lifted and her stomach...her stomach had a weird shade of red. Looking back, I figure what I thought was a bruise was a sign of internal bleeding. The bastard hurt her so hard, she bled inside until her body shut down. I lay down there with her, holding her still warm hand until Michael came back late that night.”
Isabella squeezed my hand so tight with one of her own, while she rounded her free arm on my waist, getting even closer, almost as if she wanted to fuse us.
“I don’t know why I didn’t call for help, why I didn’t call the police. I guess I was already jaded. How many times have I gone to school limping, walking funny because of his punches, his kicks, and his belt? Not even once did a teacher or someone from school approach me about it. Michael was smart enough not to mark my face once I started school, but damn it, they should’ve seen the signs.”
I shook my head, once again enraged for my past, for the negligence I endured, for my loss, and for my shitty excuse of a father.
“I didn’t even have the opportunity to mourn and say goodbye to my mom. Right after that, we moved around for a while. About a year later, we landed here. Surprisingly, Michael enrolled me in the local school. I think he wanted me out of the way. That’s how I met the guys. What so many adults failed to realize, they noticed right away. We were all kids who didn’t know any better, but Mia and Zach were sensitive enough to stay close.”
Despite the horrors of my past, my memories of that year when I met the two people who changed my life forever were almost fond.
“I was a scared and scarred kid who didn’t trust anyone. At first, it was annoying when they’d come to me every recess. I was the new kid with pants too short and shirts too old, who didn’t bring food or money to school, because most of the time I had neither. I was a sitting duck for the kids’ picking. I was waiting for the moment Mia and Zach would start bullying me. But they weren’t the ones to start it. They were the ones who stopped it.”
Once again, grown-ups failed to protect me. It took two kids who were seven and ten years old to realize I needed help, I needed saving. I worried about my baby. I’d never intentionally hurt him, but the world could. The world could fail him so badly, and that was a scary thought.
As I rubbed Isabella’s stomach, I felt my son moving and kicking, already so full of life. That was only possible because my past led me to that incredible and patient woman. I vowed to always be around, to always be their haven. I prayed he could find his own Zach and Mia. Even if he didn’t, I’d care and protect him.
I remembered my story wasn’t finished and I needed to get it out.
“They weren’t exactly popular, but they were those kinds of kids who could talk to anyone and be a part of any group. They were nice to the geeks, yet the popular kids respected them. They were friendly to the ones struggling, but they never made us feel like they were doing us a favor.”
Looking back, I felt like a charity case for a while, but it was a reflection of my demons, not a response to the way they treated me. Their care and the way they meandered seamlessly from one group to another was the result of loving parents who taught them to be good people, not condescending ones. I just hoped I could be even a fraction of what Rosie and Jackson were.
“Zach and Mia were always together. Wherever you saw one, you could find the other. I thought it was so weird. They weren’t the same age, they were a boy and a girl, yet they were inseparable, and Zach didn’t seem to mind the little thing following him around. Sometimes he was the one following her. When one of them had to skip school for whatever reason, the other seemed to be lost. I guess I was jealous of their easy connection. I shouldn’t be, because they were so generous that eventually I felt welcomed to be a part of their bubble.”
“Did it take long for you to move in here?”
I was startled at her soft voice, almost like I’d forgotten she was there. Just like I felt back in that time, she was anxious for me to get out of my hell and right into my solace.
But I had to experience hell again.
“A few years. Hell, it took me some time to even let them close enough to see there was something wrong. But they knew. They mightn’t have known what it was, but they knew there was something. What amazed me is that not only did they realize it, their parents acted on it as well in time.”
I leaned my head back on the headboard, my hand still caressing her stomach, and she nestled a little closer as my arm tightened around her. I turned my head to her, running my nose over her hair.
“Mia and Zach noticed I rarely had something to eat at school. They started sharing their lunch. They used to say they weren’t hungry, just so I could have more to eat. I’m almost positive they were taking food without their parents knowing at first. Back then, I was a little shit, full of pride and shame.” I chuckled. “Leave it to Mia to set me straight.”
As soon as the bell to recess rang, I ran out of the class to hide behind the cafeteria. I sat on the grass, feeling it prick the back of my legs. The smell of food made my stomach roar, so I started thinking of other things—the cars passing by outside of school, how relieved I was that Michael left two days prior and hadn’t come back. It was scary being alone, but it was worse when he was around.
I was lost in my fighting hunger thoughts when I heard footsteps. I didn’t need to look up to see whom they belonged to. There were only two people who would look for me. There were more before, but since the other kids weren’t picking on me anymore, it could only be Zachary and Mia.
“Hey, Benny.” I gave her a nasty look that did nothing to faze her. I said I hated when she called me that, but I never fought hard enough to make her stop, and I couldn’t understand why.
As Mia sat in front of me, Zachary sat to my right. “You ran out of class before I could reach you. We want you to come with us to our place after school. I could use your help with some homework.” That was a big lie. If anything, I was the one in need of help.
