Oh, how to start?
A mid-life crisis? No, our target audience isn’t some Karen’s husband. A sexy naked prince? Again. Wrong genre. Hmmm…
What about birth?
Mmm, well yes, that seems most logical…
From my infernal prison, I decided to pick up my hobby of writing again. It is a strange place where I am. I know that I can’t leave, but that’s obvious. Upon entering any enclosed space, creatures will search for an exit.
Ooo, that was philosophical.
What I do know is that it is dark. It is as though any light that should have been was gobbled up by some imaginary monster. However. That doesn’t mean it’s empty. Things just...appear. But sometimes just as quickly vanish.
So when I asked for a pen and paper, they appeared. Yes. I chose a pen. They’re faster to write with. So shoot me.
I should start...
A little baby girl. Born to two parents.
Stupid ass, everyone is born to two parents.
A little baby girl. Born to two unplanning parents.
There we go.
Her dear mother was only nineteen, almost twenty, yet she decided to keep the unborn child. The father stayed. She is named Tommy.
An infant suddenly forms in front of me. A smile creeps upon my lips.
Not a bad start.
After the child came into the world, a new blank canvas, her parents got married. A year later, they get divorced. Fifty-fifty custody. The parents are constantly busy and poor, and the child spends many years with her wealthier grandparents, along with her cousin (a year younger).
Her parents were on good terms. The little girl comes to favor her mother. Then, her mother marries another man, sweet at first. A sister is born 6 years later. Little Tommy sought to adore her excitingly. She is pushed to the side. As her sister grows, she is a terror, destroying anything that is loved. The name June no longer means a month, it brings to mind a fiend. The malice is laughed away with just a, “It’s just her terrible twos”. Tommy’s dad’s home becomes a refuge.
The infant has since morphed into an elementary-aged girl, ringlets curling around her soft features.
When another sister is born, it is expected that little Tommy’s nightmares will be exacerbated. Yet, the youngest is an angelic contrast to June’s demonic presence, Zee. Tommy basks in her light that makes her mother’s house a little more tolerable. That is until June started to shift from her usual prey of household items unto her own kin. Zee’s arms are frequented by unwarranted cuts and scars given as punishment from a convoluted judge. Tommy is helpless, used to it herself, but only a protection fifty percent of the time…
What about the stepfather, you forgot to expand.
While the stepfather had started kind, he soon became his own beast, mirroring the traits of his daughter, rather than the other way around. They spurred each other. While words may be of lesser abuse, they can cut deep all the same.
“Tommy is a retard.”
“Tommy is evil.”
“Tommy didn’t deserve food.”
“Tommy is not mine, thank god.”
“June is a little angel.”
Worthlessness can haunt a child better than any ghost.
Another deep quote, damn I’m good.
Fear chained her mother from intervening.
A young woman is now beside the little girl, but she is turned away from the child. A low chuckle rumbles through my chest. I forgot how fun this was…
Tommy has grown much closer to her father. His previously frightening temper has subdued, via his own conscious efforts. So when her mother presented the choice, come or stay. There was little to consider.
Custody shifted from every other week to holidays spent two states away. Eventually, Tommy’s mother did drop her husband, but that did not mean she was ever solo.
Flashes of different men come and go around the slowly aging child.
Along with her psychopathic sister’s torture, Tommy also navigated through various partners. From stalkers to murderers to just your average asshole, her mother had a type. Visits were rarely focused on her, and always included violence. Conversations were never on her academic excellence, or her friends, it was spent with her mother trying to justify her newest plaything to a cynic.
A cynic who never wanted to be cynical. A cynic who just wanted her mother’s attention, robbed from her for seemingly half her life.
One night, Tommy called out her negligence. June was bullying Zee yet again as they were supposed to be sleeping. Tommy begged for help at a locked lover’s door, only to be ignored. In pure frustration, she yelled,
“QUIT HANGING WITH YOUR STUPID BOYFRIEND AND COME HELP ME!”
Heavy footsteps finally came, and she knew she messed up. Quietly, but heavily,
Tommy grabbed her bag and took to the streets crying.
A deep forest surrounds the girl, tears making streaks down her face as the space around us is hit with a cutting wind. I look up and think I can see stars. I would kill to rejoin those celestial heavens…
There’s an idea.
You’re not supposed to. You know that. That’s why you’re here in the first place.
Oh but it’s so fun though!
As Tommy walks along the road, dark thoughts plague her. Her merits slip from her memory. She ceases to see the value in her own life. More than anything, she is tired. What if she just...tried again? Sadness turns to apathy as she walks towards a bridge. Sitting down, she gazes to the now black water.
Her mind turns to Zee. Sweet, little Zee. She thinks of how she will be warped to cruelty. Pushed to the brink. A realization pings her numbing heart. She cannot protect anyone. What happens when June is bigger? When it’s no longer just Zee, when the nails that cut her and her sisters’ skin turn to knives? Guns?
She had heard of things like reincarnation. As she watched the ebb and flow of the waves, her mind was slowly made.
I watch this version of her stand.
Maybe, she could protect her in the next life…
She jumped into the pool of ink and just like that she was gone.
Now that was enjoyable.
I was stuck with the spirit I tormented, for reasons beyond me. I was once a god myself, y’know. Cool, right? I was tasked with writing life stories. Then I got into a wee bit of trouble. You see, eternity is dreadfully boring, and I started to play around a bit. Cutting things, oh, just a tad shorter than what they should have been. Naturally, I got in trouble...
It had been a while since I last saw ole Tommy.
This time was twelve, a record as far as my self-control goes.
The first time she was six.