Hold still. Keep quiet. Obey.
Richard’s arm was up as he prepared to hit me again. I didn’trun to the beach in my head this time. I tilted my eyes to this journal, crumpled pages splayed out on carpet where it fell.
I’m done dreaming. It was the one thought I had, the one I accepted as I closed my eyes.
Except Richard’s hit never landed. He was yelling when I opened my eyes. Not at me, but at Liam. My brother was in the doorway of my room, blue eyes wide as he looked at me and then Richard on top of me.
Liam didn’t speak; he didn’t blink as he strode to Richard. In one hit, Richard was on his back. In two hits, Liam had Richard on the run.
After that night, the police were involved, an investigation ensued, papers were filed, but Richard Amos was never found.
Refusing to believe he’s gone for good or keep us anywhere he can reach us, with a new understanding of the full truth, Mom packed us up and we ran. For a brief time, fleeing our life is what finally brought us all together, turning us into this unstoppable unit, to escape that man and the pain he caused us.
But the unity didn’t last long.
Today was our last therapy session all together. Liam dropped out.
I understood why. During the session, he admitted to what life with Richard had been like for him. It wasn’t like what Mom, and I went through. His was different. Richard didn’t just hit him, but he found him at night, climbed in his bed and abused him in secret.
Liam said that he never had the courage to stand up to Richard, not until he saw him with me. And it shattered something inside me to hear him say it…because I think if I’d known what he was going through, I too would’ve been brave enough to finally speak, to fight.
We are both strong for each other but not for ourselves.
He isn’t the only one who’s pulling away.
Since the move, Mom and Liam have taken off with their newfound freedom, creating beautiful, successful lives for themselves. They’re making friends and building communities, while I keep falling back down in that fathomless pit of self-loathing and shame.
I closed up again, refusing to taint their happiness with my owndarkness. I keep it all in.
I accepted a fate that night. I made a choice.
A choice that haunts me.
I feel like I’m fading. Like I’m outside of my body. A ghost coasting through my very long, very dreary existence.
Hope.
It’s a strange concept. One that you embodied for me for so long. Not a hope for someone to want me, or a hope that I’m worthy of love.
You were the hope that I could love and live without chains. That I could give my heart freely without fear. You were a dream on a sandy beach. A path I took without hesitation.
I’m hesitating now. My faith is falling short. Breathing has become a chore. Waking up is a battle and living is the war.
I’m lost and I’m not sure I know the way anymore. I’m scared he won. I fear that I lost the one thing I wouldn’t let him, or the past take and I’m not so sure where that leaves me.
Maybelle Mason
30 I Want to Live
Trey
It was too early for this, but I was up and waiting outside Maybelle’s door at the ass crack of dawn to walk with her.
Since she moved here, we’d been meeting up in the early hours of the morning. School had started back up. So, after our walks, I ran to strength training with the team. Then I had classes and ended my days off with football practice.
Only two weeks and some days into the semester, and I felt like I could hardly keep up. As exhausted as I was, though, I wouldn’t give up these early walks with Maybelle.
They were the highlight of my day.
