Chapter Eleven #3
“Come on, please,” I beg for her to hear me. “Please, move.” I gesture my arm out to the road. “Run. Run as far as you can. Don’t look back.”
She stands on trembling legs, her jeans stained with fresh blood as those sharp shards stick out from various parts of her body.
“Shade,” she wheezes for the boy. “Shade, run, My Love. Run!”
I gasp, turning my head too fast, and I become dizzy when I stare at him trying to push himself to his feet.
“Shade?” I mutter to myself in confusion, wondering why I’m able to see such an intimate, horrible memory.
“Shade!” his mother screams at the top of her lungs when her husband flips Shade over, grips him by his shirt with one hand, and with his other, begins to hit him.
I cover my mouth with my hands, tears brimming in my eyes. “Shade!” I scream so loud, I taste blood in my throat, hoping to cut through the barrier the dream creates.
Every punch to his face has my stomach turning. His father’s knuckles become bloody, and rage burns bright in his father’s bright blue eyes—the piercing ice color that sears into someone’s soul.
“No! Stop! You’re going to kill him!” I run inside, doing my best to grab his father’s hand to stop him, but I can’t touch anything. None of my attempts work. I’m left to watch the scene unfold.
I fall to my knees, tears wetting my face.
“Shade!” His mother stumbles into the house, needing a hospital more than she needs to stop her abuser. She grabs the nearest thing, a plate, and smashes it on her husband’s face.
It stops him from hitting Shade, whose face is beyond recognition. Blood is everywhere. His nose is broken. Shade coughs, spewing blood onto his chin.
“Shade. Shade, I’m here. You can’t see me, but I’m here.
I’m right here.” I try to take his hand, the phantom of my touch sliding through his.
That only frustrates me further. “You aren’t alone,” I yell at him through tight teeth, my jaw clenched in so much rage that if I had my gun, I would shoot his father dead without a care in the fucking world.
I’d make sure the last thing he ever saw was the abyss of my nine millimeter barrel staring him in the face.
“Don’t fucking touch my son again.” His mother grabs a fork from the table, stabbing his father in the neck.
Anything can be used as a weapon when one is desperate enough.
“Shade. Shade.” I try to shake him awake, to get him to hear me. “Your mom needs you. Please, wake up. Please.” More tears fall, hating to know all the abuse he went through in his life.
“Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life.” Her husband yanks the fork from his neck, tosses it over his shoulder, and it clanks to the ground behind him.
“Both of you have made my life so miserable that every day, I hate you more. I wish neither of you existed. I dream of your deaths with a smile on my face.”
I curl over Shade to protect him, even knowing that I can’t.
“I have you. You aren’t alone,” I whisper into his ear.
“I’m right here. I won’t let him get you.
I’ll do my best to protect you. I’m so sorry this was your life.
I’m so sorry, Shade, but I promise, it gets better.
While it might not seem like it, it does.
I have you.” I pet his buzzed head with reassurance, knowing he can’t feel it, but it makes me feel better—like I’m actually doing something to make this situation better.
Shade coughs, more blood spearing into the air, and he bolts forward, spitting red wads onto the floor.
“That’s it. You’ll be okay. Get it all out. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.” I pat his back, trying to let him know he isn’t alone.
“You were always right,” his mother sneers. “He isn’t yours. He can’t be. He’s too good to have any of your DNA.”
I knew in my heart those would be her last words.
His father launches himself at her, effectively steering him away from Shade by betting her own life in return.
He tackles her out of the broken door, slams her against the ground, and frees all the hate he has kept inside his rotten soul.
I flinch with every hit he gives her. The wet sound of blood, skin slapping, the loud cracks of bones breaking, her gasps for air, the way her legs kick, and her nails try to claw at his back tell me her fight is almost over.
She’s almost free.
“You are by far the worst mistake of my life,” he roars, rearing his arms back, taking turns with each bloody fist as he punches her over and over and over again.
“Mom,” Shade wheezes, grabbing for the wall to help himself to his feet. “Mom!” he yells for her with no response.
I know the moment she dies. Her legs stop kicking. Her arms stop trying to wrap around his neck, everything about her fight falls limp. I close my eyes, my bottom lip trembling as I try to control my emotions.
“Fucking bitch. Rot in Hell.” His father stands, spitting on her body.
Shade grabs a knife from the table, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You’ll be the one going to Hell,” Shade says, clutching the blade tight within his hand.
His father turns around, stumbling from how drunk he still is, and laughs, pointing a blood-soaked finger at Shade.
“And what are you going to do? You’re just as weak as she was.”
“She’s been the one holding me back.”
I see it, then. This is the moment that changes Shade forever.
The light that brightens a child’s eyes is gone, replaced with emptiness and fury.
He lunges, ducking low as his father tries to wrap his arms around his son.
Shade is smarter, not wasting any time, and stabs the man who was supposed to raise him with love.
The blade vanishes into his father’s side, the man’s eyes widening in surprise when Shade pulls out the knife, only to plunge it into his gut again. Shade throws the knife to the side, wraps his hands around his father’s throat, and drags him to the ground.
He straddles him to get more leverage, the vein popping in his neck from the amount of force he is using to strangle his own father.
I don’t attempt to stop him. It’s not as if he can hear me anyway.
“She deserved everything!” Shade cries. “She deserved more than you were ever willing to give her.”
I squat next to him, trying to brush the tears that are making streaks through the blood on his face.
That’s when I notice his eyes. They are the same bright piercing blues as his father’s. This might not be the moment he became a monster, but it is the moment he became a beast.
His father struggles to breathe, slapping Shade’s arms to free him.
Shade holds on tighter every second, finding more strength within him until his father’s last breath finally leaves him.
When he stops fighting and is dead, Shade shakes for a pulse.
“Good fucking riddance.” Grabbing the knife again, he plunges the knife into his father’s chest—right through the heart. “I fucking hated you too.”
Falling to the side, he scrambles to his mother’s side. Her eyes are open and unblinking, pupils blown.
“Mom?” he calls for her in a small, child-like voice, one full of fear and vulnerability.
“Mom?” Shade tries again, slipping a hand under her head and dragging her to his lap.
“Mom!” he shouts with all his might, clutching her dead body to him.
“No, no, no. No.” Shade shakes his head in denial, the snow beginning to fall again.
Every flake holds the same screams that I heard throughout his life.
“Mom! Come back, Mom. Come back. He is gone. He won’t hurt us anymore.
He’s gone. Please.” Shade clutches onto her shirt, dragging her closer to his chest, embracing the one person who loved him more than anything in this world.
“Mommy,” his voice breaks. “Please, come back.” He tries shaking her again, even going as far as to place his ear next to her mouth to hear for any signs of life.
“No.” He continues to be in denial, placing her on the ground gently. “No!” His hands lie over one another and begin compressions. “Come on, Mom. Come on. Don’t let him win. Don’t let him win!” he screams so loud, his voice echoes through the air.
Even with his attempts, she lies motionless.
“Mommy. Not my mommy.” The young voice of a child is back as he clutches onto her for dear life.
He holds her dead body, sobbing into her neck, and I cry with him, wishing I could help.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. Please, come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I can’t face the world without you. I can’t face this nightmare alone.”
The pounding of boots has me turn my head, my vision blurry from the tears, when I see very large men with black cuts on running through the house. Their cuts say ‘Shallow Sinners’ and the one that has the ‘Prez’ patch, kneels by Shade.
“Oh, shit,” one of them says.
“Damn. We’re too late,” another echoes their disappointment.
“Hey, Kid. Your neighbor called us and said they heard fighting over here again. We came as soon as possible.” He presses his hand against his chest. “I’m Ryker. My friends call me Prez, though. Who are you?”
Shade doesn’t say anything. He only continues to silently cry while holding his mother.
“Can you tell me what happened? The neighbor said your dad wasn’t a very nice man. Is that what happened here? You tried to save your mom?”
Shade’s fingers somehow clutch onto her harder, his knuckles turning white. When he blinks, a fresh wave of tears breaks free.
“Tell you what, we will take care of his body, and we will give your mom a nice funeral on our property if you want. You can stay with us, and you’ll be able to visit her anytime.”
“Mom,” Shade’s voice breaks, eyes pinching shut as he buries his face into her neck, and sobs.
His shoulders shake, his sobs become roars, he cries until he can’t breathe, and Ryker wraps his massive arms around Shade and his mother.
“I know, Kid. I know. Let it all out. You’re safe now.”
All Shade has known is trauma his entire life. As a child, as a teen, and then as a man, when he was turned into a monster.
These dreams I was forced to see weren’t dreams at all.
They were nightmares.
And they all belonged to Shade.