I was inspired to write this little bit of self exploration after reading the submission to LJ Idol made by my wonderful LJ friend Liz, better known as cataclysmic_liz.
I myself am not in the contest though, because I wasn’t sure I would have enough time on my hands to do it justice. But that doesn’t mean I can’t throw caution to the wind, and lay bare my soul. Okay maybe not bare, but semi-bare. This, like I said was inspired by reading the moving reminiscence written by cataclysmic_liz. The story is true. No names have been changed to protect anybody.
The very earliest memory I have is waking up in bed at the age of I think three, in the dark and alone. I call out to my mother and no one answers. I yell louder and still nothing. So I get out of bed and start to walk through the house, calling and bumping into things, because I can't see much of anything. I can't reach the light switches, and so there is only light from the streetlights outside the windows. Tears start to come from my eyes, and now flow down my face. I am screaming now because I realize I am all alone and I have never been alone in the house before. I don't remember things before this night that clearly, but I know that I have never been in the house alone. The walls seem to stretch into the sky, as if there isn't even a ceiling. I am screaming and crying and I feel as if I am the last kid in the world. I scream mommy where are you. And why, why where is she. I have no idea how much time passes but there comes to be a lot of pounding on the door to the apartment, and still I cry. I can't open the door, because I can't reach it. So I stand in the apartment living room and cry for someone anyone because I have never been alone. I'm only three, and I don't know that anybody will ever come back to take away the raw terror I feel at that moment.
The pounding on the door continues somebody calling to me, but I hardly hear their voice, through my crying, I can't see that well either, because the tears have begun to blind me and are burning my eyes. My cheeks are raw, I feel like I have to pee, but can't seem to remember what you're supposed to do when that happens, because all I know is fear.
Suddenly the door opens and a strange woman runs into our apartment, she sweeps me into her arms and says it's alright someone is going to get your mother.
I don't recognize this woman, so I keep screaming that I want my mother, where is she. The woman says someone knows where she is. Some time has passed and I am still crying choking with intense fear, and I don't know why because the nice lady says everything is going to be alright. But I seem to know that isn't true, I know that if everything was alright, I wouldn't be here alone with this strange woman I don't know holding me trying to calm me down.
And then.....there she is my mother walking through the door in a pretty dress. Why is she dressed up? She wasn't dressed nice like this when she put me in the bed. But she picks me up and glares at the strange woman I don't know. She asks how she got in the apartment, and the woman says the super opened it for her. I have calmed down and I find myself listening to the conversation between the woman and my mother. The nice lady is asking what my mother was doing leaving me alone. They talk like I'm not there, now that I am all quiet they don't see me. They don't know that I understand the big words they use already, even though I am so little. The grown-up words they use come easy to me already, and though they don’t know it I understand everything. All the words have a meaning and even the ones I don't really truly know I remember. And when I find out what they all mean I know why I was left all alone.
Mommy had a date you see, and she asked this other woman to watch me that night, but the lady she asked wasn't able to come. So my mother thought what's the difference, he's asleep anyway, so he'll never know I went anywhere. So she put me to bed, got dressed and went out on her date. That was that, because after all she deserved to have some fun once in a while she told the lady who came and opened the door.
Didn't she? Deserve some fun, that is? I would find out as the years went by and I grew that mom didn't much think of having a child as much of a fun thing.
She told me when I was about six years old that I ruined her life, that had I not been born she could have been happy. Had all the things she deserved.
She always said stuff like that, right up until the time I stopped listening. That was a while ago now; I haven't heard her in a long time, no matter how loud she speaks.
If it hadn't been for me she could have gotten all the things she deserved in life.
Like a little fun, right?
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