Souls Unfractured
My eyes shut, and I heard my poppa screaming in my head. “Flame… talk to me, please…” Maddie begged, taking me right back to that day. Right back to that hell…
Poppa had left. I heard the slamming of the door. I relaxed, and laid down on the dirt floor. I was so tired. I was so hungry. But I hadn’t dared to move, hearing his footsteps above me. If he caught me sleeping I would be punished. And my body hurt. The belt hurt and I didn’t want more pain.
Just as I laid my cheek on the dirt, I heard feet moving above me, then stop. I sat straight up and shuffled back into the corner of the hole.
My heart started beating too fast, thinking it was my poppa, and I scratched at my wrists to get out the flames before he could do it himself. I didn’t want his blades on my arm again. They hurt too much.
Then just as I’d sliced my arm with my sharp fingernails, someone laid down on the hatch above. I froze, my eyes trying to search through the cracks. But I couldn’t see anything.
Then a voice drifted down to the cellar where I sat. “Son, can you hear me?”
My body relaxed when I heard the sound of my mama. “Mama?” I whispered and I heard her sob.
“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?”
“It hurts,” I whispered, and held up my arm to the cracks in the floor, just in case she could see. I could see the blood on my skin.
“I’m trying, Mama. I’m trying to get out the flames so Poppa won’t take me back to church. I don’t like the snakes. The Pastor ties me down and they bite me.”
Mama sniffed. “I know, baby. I know you don’t like them. I don’t either.”
I lowered my arm, and said, “Poppa says I’m a retard. I think… I think that’s bad. Because he hurts me when he calls me it. But I don’t understand what one is?”
My mama sobbed again. “Listen to me, baby. You’re not a retard. No matter what anyone tells you, you’re not a retard. Okay?”
I nodded and dropped my arm. I pushed myself to my feet and tried to reach the floorboards above. But I couldn’t. “Mama?” I asked. “Can you let me out? It’s dark and cold, and I get scared down here on my own.” Mama kept sobbing, but louder this time. My eyebrows pulled down. “Mama? Why are you crying?”
Mama didn’t say anything for a while, then I saw her fingers squeezing through a wide crack in the floor. “Can you see my fingers, baby?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Touch my fingers, baby… let me touch your hand.”
I looked around and saw a bit of dirt sticking out of the wall. Moving over, I put my foot on the ledge and lifted myself to touch her fingers. As soon as our fingers touched I took a deep breath. I loved my mama. She was kind, and she never called me names.
Mama cried louder and tightened her fingers around mine. “Mama? Can you get me out now?”
“I can’t,” she cried. “Poppa’s locked you in and I don’t have the key.”
My heart sank. “Okay,” I whispered.
“Baby,” my mama called. My head looked up trying to see her, but I couldn’t. Her voice had changed. I could tell.
“Yeah, mama?”
“I need… I need you to know that I love you. I love you so much, baby… but I’m tired. I’m so tired.”
Mama’s fingers tightened on mine, and they were shaking. “Mama, why are your hands shaking?” I asked.
Mama cried. She cried and cried, and she didn’t stop for such a long time. Then she whispered, “I love you, baby, so much. You’re so special to me. Even if you’re different, you’re my little boy. But…” She sucked in a breath. “But I can’t stay. I can’t stay…”
My heart dropped in fear and I gripped her fingers tighter. “No, Mama. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go.” But her fingers began pulling away. “No!” I shouted, and tried to hold them tighter. But I couldn’t keep hold.
“Look after your brother, baby. Protect him and keep him safe,” she hushed out, then her fingers disappeared.
“Mama!” I shouted, but my foot slipped on the dirt ledge and I fell to the hard ground. Mama’s footsteps moved away from the hatch and I heard her say, “I love you, baby. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
I lifted my knees to my chest and began rocking. Then the house went silent. And I cried. I cried because she’d left me. She touched me, then she left.
Left me here with him…