Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Some say we are all born innocent.
What a lie.
I was born in my mother’s pain and suffering, forever smeared in sins one can never wash away.”
Levi
Levi, 6 years old
My mother’s scream echoes through the basement as I watch her sink against the washed-out pillows and gulp for breath while her white flannel dress is soaked in sweat. She must have peed herself because a big pool is under her legs, soaking up the sheets.
“Lev, ne smotri. Sprachsya v vannoi,” she whispers through her dry lips, and scrunches her eyes while another scream escapes her, her hands gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles turn white, and I see traces of blood on them.
I shake my head at her order to not look and hide in the bathroom. She’s been in pain for the past couple of hours, and her large stomach has lowered a little bit in a strange way.
Mama hasn’t been feeling good all this time, either vomiting or sleeping, which made the monster happy whenever he showed up to force-feed her the medication and herbal teas.
At least he stopped coming down here so often and hitting Mama, who continued to tell me beautiful stories and teach me.
She even managed to convince him to bring books and taught me how to read. It’s very hard, and half the time I don’t understand it, but Mama is very strict.
On her birthday, he brought her a thick book that was so pretty, and Mama said it was about Norse mythology.
They were all so beautiful and magnificent, I couldn’t stop staring at the pictures as Mom explained their powers and stories.
They were all my favorites, but one stood out the most.
Thor.
“Lev,” she repeats, breathing heavily and resting her head on the pillow while biting on her lower lip and freezing for a second before sighing. “Go.”
“No!” I reply stubbornly, and grab the water bottle from the table, bringing it to her chapped lips. “Drink, Mama.”
Tears stream down her cheeks, and she gives me a weak smile while taking a tentative sip, but quickly turns her head away, “Enough.” She places her legs apart, her feet pressing into the mattress as another agonizing scream rips out from her throat.
I hear the door to the basement being opened, the bright light streaming inside as hurried footsteps fill the space, and in a second, the monster is here, his eyes glistening with excitement. “My darling. The time has come for my girl.”
That’s all he’s been talking about ever since he brought some huge machine in here that showed a black-and-white screen.
Whenever he touched Mama’s huge tummy with it, she struggled in his grip, but he strapped her to the bed and did whatever he wanted.
During one of these visits, he exclaimed happily.
He’s carrying a warm bucket of water and several towels that he places on the table, and barks at me, “Don’t just stand there, you useless piece of shit.”
“Don’t talk to him!” Mama snaps and grabs the bedsheets again, twisting them in her grip and biting on her lip so hard there is blood.
She never wants to show her weakness in front of him, so I’m not surprised there are no screams now.
“Go to the bathroom,” she orders again, breathing through her nose while sweat drips from her forehead to her nose and her bruised lip. “And stay there.”
“He can be useful for once. Grab the damn thing.” He pushes me toward the table, and I stumble a little, deciding to listen to him so I can help Mommy.
Mama is always brave when I’m in the bathroom, or so she says, and I don’t want her to be brave alone. I should stay by her side so he won’t hurt her again.
“Wet the towel and wipe her face, she should be pretty as she delivers my daughter into this world.” I do as he says while he gets on the bed, pushing Mom’s legs wide apart while she still tries to kick him away.
“Don’t be difficult.” I rush to her, placing the towel on her forehead and then cheeks, scooping the tears all up so he won’t see them.
“Let’s check you out.” He raises her dress over her knees, and Mama grabs my hand, dragging me closer so I don’t see anything.
“Yes, I can already see the head. My little princess,” he whispers, and his eyes narrow on me. “Bring me the towel and the bucket.”
Putting the wet towel on Mommy’s neck because she is all hot and flushed, I once again do as he says. The bucket is too heavy, though, so I spill some water on the bed, and this earns me a snarl.
“Useless piece of shit,” he yells, slapping me across the face so hard I land on the floor, the pain rocking over me. “Can’t do anything right!”
“Don’t touch him!” Mama shouts, and it quickly transforms into a scream that echoes in the night as she twists on the bed again. “Don’t touch him!” she repeats, albeit weakly, and makes a weird sound through her nose as her hands grip the sheets even tighter.
“Focus on our little girl, my beautiful one.”
“I hate you,” she replies, and screams some more. I jump up and go back to her, settling near her head and running my fingers through her hair. She turns her head to me, and for the first time, I see them completely blank, like emotions don’t exist in there.
Is this how she got the last two times she had to go through something like this? Mama’s stomach grew big twice in the last two years, and he always hoped it would be a girl, but every time she screamed like this, nothing happened the next day.
I heard him once say he doesn’t need another boy.
“Moy lvenochek,” she murmurs, so I lean closer, and she rests her forehead against mine. “Esli so mnoi chtota sluchitsya, begi. Poka dveri otkrity, begi nastolko bystro naskolko eto vozmozhno.”
I swallow hard at her request and glance at the monster, who places towels all around her while using some kind of spray on his hands and smiles. “She’s coming.” Mommy’s body shakes in yet another painful scream.
Her words ring in my ears as fear washes over me, and I press myself tighter to her.
“If something happens to me, run. Run as fast as you can while the doors are still open.”
How can I run? He doesn’t let me walk near the stairs. He even drew a red line, and he has some kind of radar. Once I stepped on it, he was inside right away, trying to teach me a lesson, but Mommy stopped him.
It resulted in me being locked in the bathroom once again while he ripped Mommy’s dress, and I found her all bruised up again.
Sometimes I think I’m like him because a monster awakens inside me too, wishing to hurt him so much so it would be him who has all these bruises and crying in pain, so he’d know what it is like to hurt like Mommy.
Whenever I share such thoughts with her, she shakes her head and tells me never to be cruel to anyone, because evil is a choice and I should always choose goodness.
According to her, it always wins, but how is our life a victory right now?
It seems like the evil monster gets everything he wants while we suffer, not that I ever share such thoughts with her.
Mama thinks I’m too smart for my age and always praises me, saying I’m just like my uncle. I hate him too.
If he is so powerful and good, where is he?
Another hard push and a cry reverberates through the walls as Mama sags against the pillows, and my eyes widen when I see the monster holding a crying baby covered in something sticky that’s blue and red.
“A girl,” he says in wonder, using water to clean her up and then wrapping her in a towel.
“The doctor will come here shortly, my darling. We can finally get married.” He smiles, rocking the baby in his arms. “You gave me a princess. Nothing and no one will take you away from me now.” He kisses the top of her knees and then inhales the baby’s scent, who continues to cry even harder.
“Now our families will have to accept us.”
Mommy once said that the monster belongs to a powerful family that ignores his madness and keeps it hidden from everyone. That’s why he gets away with hurting us.
“Darling, look at our daughter,” he says, and I focus back on Mommy. Her eyes are closed, and she doesn’t move. “Darling.”
“Mama,” I whisper, cupping her cheek and placing my thumb against her pulse as she taught me. There is nothing. “Mama, please wake up,” I whisper again, hugging her tight, wishing for her to move, but she’s already warned me.
If there is no pulse, it means the person is dead.
Tears form in my eyes, and I shake her body, wishing for my mama to open her arms and smile at me while her scent still lingers in my nose despite everything, but the ripping pain in my chest just increases with each passing second.
“Get away from her, you stupid fuck,” the monster bellows, throwing me away. Once again, I land on the floor while the baby cries louder when he dumps her on the bed and wraps his arms around Mommy, shaking her entire body. “Open your eyes, darling!”
No matter how much he pleads with her, she stays still, and that’s when the sun streaming from the open door snags my attention.
Despite all the hurt and sobs threatening to escape from my throat, another conversation with Mama pops into my head that makes me want to rush to her once again, hoping to feel her heartbeat under my ear that always calms me down.