“Elliott, honey.” My heart sinks hearing my name, “When did you wake up? And you have mommy’s phone, give that to me.” Her words are just as slow as her crawling, her voice monotone.
This is my mom.
The camera shuffles and I see quick glimpses of the rest of what looks to be a living room. Trash was all over the floor mixed with beer cans, trash bags, and clothes. A toddler starts to cry as the screen settles again, landing on the child.Me.
I’m in nothing but a diaper, looking no more than one year old. My hair so much blonder than it is now, but the blues of my eyes are the same. My belly is so round as I wobble on my bare feet, arms reaching for the woman behind the phone camera.
“What a silly baby you are. You know better than to touch mommy’s things.” The lady says out of view.
Then the video ends.
“I’ve never seen my real mom before.” I mumble absentmindedly.
“You okay?” Kameron asks, his protective hold on me still.
“I’m okay,” is all I say as I continue my clicking.
The photos are mostly the same, me as a baby or toddler all in the same home setting. They start off innocent enough but as I got older, the atmosphere changed. My smile started to lookforced. My eyes looked more scared than full of joy, like the ones at the beginning. The house gets messier, with more stains on the carpet and the couch fabrics start to tear.
Then the background changes, this picture was somewhere else. A place darker and with no furniture, only a mattress covered in pink sheets and a pillow. The walls look like they could be concrete but the lighting is so strange. It’s like there’s only one light in the room and it's aimed exactly where I sit with my legs to the side and my hands on my lap.
My hair is still knotted but pushed up into two pigtails. I have the biggest smile on my face but it’s not real, plastic almost. My eyes droop, as if I needed a nap or something.
I looked like a little kid, maybe old enough for kindergarten? But the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my palms grow clammy.
The next click leads me to a video.
The little girl, well me, is barely able to hold herself up.
My mother asks me a series of questions but then it takes a turn. A man she’s calling myfathercomes into view.
My stomach flips on itself and my breathing picks up.
I blink away as I hear him forcing me to drink a cup of water.
When I look up again, my body is limp in his arms and he’s laying me down.
No.
I don’t blink for what feels like forever as I watch the nightmare play out on video. I watch as he drags himself on top ofme and that is all the confirmation I need for what he’s about to do. What my biological mother was allowing to happen. I click through faster this time. My ears roar to life as my pulse beats quickly. Every picture and video is worse than the last one and it goes on and on.
I yank my hand from the mousepad. A photo sits on the screen, I’m about the same age as before. Pain laces my brows, the emotion is all too real compared to the smiles I painted on my face in all of the others.
My eyes flick up from the screen landing on Marcus who for some reason decided to stay as I watch my life unravel in front of me.
There’s something in his expression as I keep his gaze.
Something sad…caring? No.
Something like…pity.
It isn’t until Kameron pulls me into his embrace that I start to hear my sobs. Air hitting my cheeks and my body trembles as the breeze hits the streams of tears rolling down them.
I fold into him, letting his warmth keep me grounded. I see the pit closing in on me.
I allow it but this time I know I won’t be staying in the darkness for long.
I can’t. I won’t.
