Chapter 11
Mireya
Past
Play - Half return by Adrienne Lenker
The Deepest Scar
I don’t know why my tummy hurts, but it hurts every time they scream, so I sit on the floor next to the couch, and I don’t move. If I stay small, maybe they can forget I’m here.
Mom’s eyes look shiny, she’s talking fast, and she’s trying to hide her face with her hair. Dad talks louder, his voice is raspy, and it always happens when he drinks a lot.
I don’t understand the words; it’s just a loud noise. Money, work, adult things.
My ears feel hot, and I hug my knees tighter when I hear Dad screaming about how he’s going to kill her if she keeps acting that way.
I don’t want him to do that.
My heart pounds in my ears like I ran for a while, but I was sitting the whole time.
Dad hits the table with his hand, the glasses jump, and mom flinches because she got scared of the noise.
“You’re going to stop acting like a fucking bitch and tell me why I found you passed out on the couch again. ”
Mom was sleeping on the couch when I woke up. She told me, “Don’t wake me, okay?” so I didn’t. There were empty bottles on the floor, they’re always dad’s bottles, and he gets mad when people touch them. I shouldn’t have listened to her.
If I woke her up, maybe Dad wouldn’t be yelling now. I don’t know why they’re angry.
Maybe it’s also my fault because yesterday I spilled some juice on the rug.
Maybe dad saw that and got even more mad.
He grabs Mom’s arm, and her sleeve twists like a rope as she whispers, “Stop.” It’s so small I almost don’t hear her.
My legs stand up before I even think. “Stop it!” I shout.
He always hits her hard when he does this. The belt comes off sometimes. I remember the last time, the line on her arm and the one on my back. It still hurts her, just thinking about it.
I don’t want him to hit her with it again. I feel like if I do something, maybe it can stop him. And when I ask him to not hit her, everything stops.
Dad looks at me; his face is red and angry. I feel like I’m shrinking, and I want to run but my feet don’t listen. He yells, but I don’t hear the words, it’s just really loud.
Mom screams at me too, “Go to your room! Why did you come here?”
I don’t know, I thought helping was good, I don’t understand why she’s mad at me.
My eyes are hot. I bite my lip, but it breaks and I taste blood. Tears slide down anyway, even if I don’t want to cry. “Because… because you always end up crying, Mom.”
Dad lunges at me after that. He grabs me off the floor and drags me up the stairs. My knees hit the wood, and I try to push him, to yell, but my voice comes out tiny and squeaky. Mom screams behind us and I try to scream too, but the words get stuck in my throat.
The door of my room slams shut behind us. She kicks it, begging, but he doesn’t open it.
“You fucking stupid kid, that’s how you talk to your dad?” He screams as he’s taking his belt off.
I want to disappear. My chest hurts, my legs wobble. I hiccup and cry a little, I don’t know how to stop it. “Dad…Da…Dad… please no…”
He doesn’t care, he comes closer, and I curl my hands over my face. They’re too small to protect it completely, and my fingers shake. It burns. My eye burns, my lip too, and I want to cry.
“Dad… Please…”
He hits one time, then harder with the belt, on my arm, on my chest, everywhere.
I don’t know why, but I try to hide more. My legs tremble, my teeth kick and I feel big and small at the same time. Pain bursts near my eye and I cry silently.
“I work hard, for my kid, for my fucking family,” his voice is loud and scary. “I WORK SO HARD!” And he keeps hitting.
I don’t remember when he stopped, I don’t even understand that he stopped or why. Because everything is numb, I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel my arms. I can’t feel my face.
After a few minutes, the door opens and he’s gone. I just sit there, gasping for air, I feel like I can’t breathe… Maybe I cried too much. Mom comes in when he leaves, her mascara is streaked, her eyes are red. She’s crying, but her voice is not kind. “What did you say to him?!”
“I said stop. I just said stop because it was hurting…”
She slaps my face so hard my cheek burns. “I told you it’s none of your business, Reya!” she yells, shaking me harder, and I want to throw up.
I try to tell her, “I was just—” but I can’t even hear my voice. I think it’s bleeding under my eye. I touch it, but she grabs my wrist, shaking me again. “Don’t you ever…don’t you ever—try to protect me!”
I don’t understand. I tried to help; I just wanted him to stop. I wanted her to be safe.
Why is she mad at me?
Why is she mad at me and not at him?
She grabs me, hugs me hard. Her perfume engulfs me as my cheek presses into her shoulder, but I’m still crying. Big, loud sobs that won’t stop. My chest hurts, my stomach twists, and my hands shake. I can’t stop crying.
I hiccup and sniffle, “Why… why…” I try to whisper, but my voice is all broken. “Why… why… did you… hit me? Why… why… hugging me now, mom?”
Her arms squeeze me tighter and I feel stupid pressing my face into her shoulder even more. My tears drip down my neck. I can feel the sting from my eye where the belt hit.
It hurts. Everything hurts. I shake and hiccup again stronger, trying not to be loud. I don’t know what to do, so I just cry and press against her. But I still don’t understand.
“Because you’re my little girl, and I love you still.”