Tears, Echoes and Promises...

TW: abuse, sexual abuse

“How many apple seeds will kill a human?”

This is how it started. One google search. Of all the random things I search up at 2 in the morning, this one search changed my life forever.

It was a Tuesday morning. I woke up early to get ready for school. It was the first day of junior year. I brushed my teeth and went downstairs to help my mom with breakfast. Eggs, toasts, and fruit juice were our regulars. I greeted her with a warm smile as she placed a kiss on my forehead. She asked how excited I was followed by a story about her own first day of junior year.

“I still remember that day when your dad was called in the office to take me to Mrs. Emerson’s class. God, I was nervous!”

I’ve heard these words probably a hundred times, but it never gets old enough. After all, that is how my story began.

Hi, I’m Emerson, but you can call me Emmy. I’m 17 and my life’s a mess, but I have the strongest and most beautiful mother on Earth. I was born when she was 19. Despite being a teen mom, she never failed to provide me all the love and happiness the world has to offer. But one night, our world turned upside down. I was 4. We were a small but happy family. My mom went to college and worked part-time at a local restaurant while my dad worked at a small firm. It was around 20 minutes from our house. Mom would pick me up from the daycare and come home by 5 while dad would be done by 8 in the evening and bring me some candies on his way home. Until one day, he didn’t. It was 10 o’clock. My dad still wasn’t home. Despite multiple calls and texts, there was no answer. It was after midnight that we finally received a call. But it wasn’t my dad’s.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Davis?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“This is the LA police department. Your husband was found dead in a car crash. I’m so sorry…”

My mom couldn’t speak. She dropped on her knees holding onto the phone like she was holding on to life for the very last time. I watched her obliviously as tears flooded her beautiful eyes. I watched her as the deafening silence was now taken over by her soul-wrenching wails. I watched my mother cry for the first time. I didn’t know why. All I knew was- my mother is sad. And still not knowing why, I promised myself I wouldn’t let her feel this way ever again. I wouldn’t let her cry. I wouldn’t let her be sad. I slowly walked to her, gripping the stuffed teddy bear that my dad gave me on my 2^nd birthday. I was scared. Terrified. But I knew she needed me. I touched her soft cheek that was now soaked in pain. She looked at me. I’m not sure if she could see me clearly, but she pulled me into her arms and held me tighter than she ever had. Her fingers dug deep into my little body. It hurt. But I didn’t utter a word. I let her sorrows penetrate my skin. I’d do anything for you mommy.

And so, I did. It has been 13 years since that night. My mom is now married to Jake Woodwork. Or I’d rather say Jerk Woodwork. They have been married for 4 years now. Little did my mom know that this man would be the greatest mistake of her life. It was all good for the first two years. But things started going downhill after that. Jake lost his partnership in a business he started with his friend. He became broke after that. But instead of trying to find a job or another source of income, he started taking money from my mom to use for alcohol and gambling. At night when he’d come home, he would become abusive to her. I often found purple marks on her body, but she never uttered a word. I watched her as she embraced the silence, concealing the flames of regret burning within her soul. I watched her as waves of dejection splashed against her chest, ripples echoing to the rhythm of her heart. I wondered how our lives could’ve been different, how beautiful she would’ve looked wearing the smile my dad once gave her. I watched. I watched her caress the blemishes cast upon her. Until one night… it was the last straw.

I finished dinner and went upstairs to my room to work on my English essay. It was almost 11 at night when I completed the essay. I was getting ready for bed when I heard the doorbell ring. I assumed it was Jake coming home after his usual poker evening, a smidgen of his cold esse. But what wasn’t regular was the loud thud that followed 5 minutes later. I presumed that something had dropped on the floor, but the subsequent discourse spoke otherwise. I quietly tiptoed outside my room and stood at the stairs to see what was going on. Jake had returned home drunk and was yelling at my mom, clutching her wrist. I felt a sudden burst of anger inside me. I knew my stepfather was abusive, but it was only from the marks that he left on her arms or shoulder the next morning. I never saw what he did to her at night, until now.

“I said I want the money!” I heard him scream.

“I’m not giving you a single penny to waste on your addiction. If you can’t live without it why don’t you just earn yourself?!”

“Who are you to decide what I’m supposed to do?”

She didn’t speak. She was crying. She was in pain; the pain I promised to never let her feel again as a 4-year old. I knew I had to do something. I walked further down the stairs and stood at the end of it. The living room was dimly lit. The silence was haunted by my mother’s incessant muffled cries. Walking into the room, I noticed two figures pushed against the wall. I held my mouth to cover up the gasp that just escaped. Her hands were pinned against the wall, struggling to break free.

“Give. Me. The. Money.” He uttered in a low and ugly voice.

“I won’t!”  

Those were the last two words she could speak that night. What I saw next is a living nightmare I won't ever be able to forget. Jake pushed himself onto her mouth, burying every sound that tried to break free. I watched my mother being tortured and tormented as tears flowed down her cheeks. I felt numb. He threw her against the couch and fell onto her. I watched her as her skin countered every touch of his ugly hands with pain and disgust. I couldn’t see her like that. I ran towards them trying to push him away. I couldn’t. He was too strong for me. A beast. He shoved me away throwing me against the dining table. I felt like my head was popping out. My vision was getting blurry. I watched him as he tore her nightgown off her and lowered himself into her. Her cries weren’t muffled anymore. She screamed. She cried for life. I felt myself getting deafened by her screams. I couldn’t hear her anymore. All I could hear was my heart beating hard against my chest, my numbed consciousness trying to fight back to life. Until, I heard a voice… I heard my 4-year-old self echoing in my head. I’d do anything for you mommy.

I looked across the room searching desperately for something heavy. My eyes landed on a metal showpiece that rested on the table beside the couch. I pulled myself onto my feet with all the strength I had in me and grabbed the showpiece. I aimed at the horrifying monster who was occupied thrusting her soul out of her body and plunged it behind his head. He collapsed onto the floor with a loud shriek. I dropped my weapon and looked at my mom as she laid naked on the couch, shaking from horror and guilt. I watched her as her skin glistened in the chaos of moonlight and the dark. I didn’t hug her. I didn’t ask if she was okay. I took a final glimpse and walked back upstairs into my room. I shut the door and stood against it. I felt my brain thrashing against my skull. I held my head as if it would stop it from exploding. I felt something wet. Blood. I started crying. Not because of the pain I felt physically, but the one that resonated with my failure. My broken promise to myself to never let her feel sad again while she had been dwelling upon this the whole time. I felt the world crashing over me. I had to do something. Now.

I ran to the bathroom and washed my hands. I looked in the mirror. I looked into the eyes that resembled my mother’s.

“I won’t let him do this to you. Ever. Again.”

I dried my hands on the towel and went back inside. I took my laptop and sat on my bed.

‘How many apple seeds will kill a human?’

20 apple cores.

***

I woke up earlier than usual the next day. I had a week left before school started. I saw my mom downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast, like always. I saw the marks he had left from last night, wounds that whispered mistakes and tolerance. I felt a sudden wave of nausea engulf me. But I knew I had to stay strong. I had to bring an end. I skipped my breakfast and took my bike to the local grocery store. Apples. I looked at those red, innocent fruits as they stared back at me with a malicious gaze.

I had two options: One, my mom would henceforth become a widow, alone but unshackled. Two, she’d have to dwell with the person who raped her in front of her own daughter.

I felt myself flinch at my own thought. I bought 15 apples as that’s all I could afford with the money I had. I went back home and straight to my room. I locked the door and waited for my mom to go out for work. When I finally heard the main door close, I took the bag of apples and went downstairs. I found a knife from the kitchen and started cutting the apples briskly. I took out the seeds and washed them in the sink before I threw them inside the grinder. 35 minutes. I had 35 minutes left before Jake came home from his morning jog. I noticed the shake which mom had left for him in the kitchen. I took the large glass and quickly mixed the powder with it. It looked like usual even after the mix. I kept it back to where it was and cleaned the apples from the table. I took them with me into my room and waited for Jake to come home. He returned almost 45 minutes later, grunting as he rubbed the back of his head. Around minutes later, I heard a glass shatter. I waited for 2 minutes before I walked downstairs. Jake was on the floor, his fingers crippled into a strange form. He looked at me like he wouldn’t think twice before slitting my throat. He tried to move his mouth, but it wouldn’t open. He tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come out. I watched those lips as they shivered helplessly; the same pair of lips that were used to hush my mother, to stain her precious beauty. I didn’t know if it was guilt or pleasure, but something whispered inside me, I had done it. I had protected my mother. He won’t hurt her again. He won’t rape her again. He won’t make her cry. I won’t let him make her cry.

I went out with my bike to throw away the bag of cut apples. When I can home, I saw him lying on the floor, motionless. When I was convinced there was no life left in him, I called 911.

They took him to the hospital. He was still alive. Paralyzed. Forever. I went to see my mother who was now in there. She wasn’t crying, nor was she sad. She just looked at him. She watched her rapist lying helpless on the hospital bed. I felt sick inside, so I decided to go home instead. Mom came back at night. We sat at the dinner table, barely eating.

“When will they release him?” I asked in a low voice.

“Day after tomorrow.”

He was completely bedridden when he came back, unable to speak or open his mouth. My mom moved into my room with me. He slept alone downstairs. We hired a nurse to take care of him during the day. Life was becoming better now. I woke up to a smile on my mom’s face. She looked more beautiful than ever. Two days later, I decided to check on Jake for the first time since he was brought home. He was still in the same position, powerless and feeble.

“You can’t hurt my mother anymore,” I said.

I don’t know if he could hear me, but I hoped he did. I turned and walked out of his room and went back to mine. In the evening, I went to the kitchen to help mom with dinner. I watched her as she smiled at me. She looked so radiant. I admired her as her gorgeous ebony hair flew gracefully across her cheek. I wished to grow up as strong as her one day.

Fast forward to today, I was ready for my first day of school. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I saw my mom cut the mangoes with that same knife while I made the toast. When I was finally about to leave after finishing my glass of juice, I heard her call out my name.

“I’m so proud of you Emmy.”

I smiled. I’d do anything for you mommy.