Childhood again

Now

It comes to her easily. She would usually see revenge as unnecessary. The best revenge is a good life lived, so they say, but this time her anger is so fierce, so close to her mind that she has to do something direct. There is no hurry. She can call on her anger whenever she wants. All she has to do is let herself live the memory of what happened. 

Before

By four years old she could read. She was a smart and chubby kid. She was loving as well. Famously her family didn't like physical contact, or any show of emotion but she hugged everyone and they all found it so charming that she was naturally full of love. By four years old her mother was only 20 and still a child. Not as smart, not chubby. Her mother was so lonely. She loved to have someone to adore and who adored her. Not just any man would do though, he had to love her just enough that she felt it but not enough that she stopped fighting for it. The type of man who lived in this balance was also the type who would hurt a child for fun. By four years old she had her first bruises inflicted by a grown man. By four years old she had a gun held to her head. By four years old she knew the pain of telling her mom that a man was hurting her and her mother accusing her of lying. She knew the pain of her mom asking that man to babysit when her grandmother was only just across the pasture and would have done it and kept her safe. She knew what it felt like to hang by your snow white pajamas in a coat closet. She knew what it felt like to be told “eat more” after you were full. To have a gun held to your head until you ate more and then puked, and then of course ate more. She also knew that not all abuse is a cycle. She knew the man's parents and they didn’t abuse him. They gave her chocolate milk with a curly straw. They gave her a kitten. They asked her not to tattle on the man. She was four and couldn’t keep a secret. She was four and he killed her kitten in front of her. He just wanted to see her scared. By just four and a half she knew the embarrassment of wetting your pants because he locked the bathroom door and made you hold it for hours just so he could mock you for having wet pants and call you a baby. Sometimes, when she was older, she would reflect on this and think she was grateful to have been a chubby and ugly kid, it probably saved her from knowing what rape felt like to a four year old. Do all four year olds know the metallic taste of their own blood in their throat? Do all children watch kids on TV and wonder if they wear long sleeves to cover bruises so they don’t get called clumsy? 

She told her mother again but her mother decided in her own way that being alone was worse than the abuse against her daughter. It was sad that her daughter was being abused but at least she had a warm body next to her at night.

At four she finally told her aunt, who was an adult with resources that could make her mom remove the man. 

But unfortunately at four she also learned that prosecuting a child abuse case is really difficult and that if you pretended to forget the abuse happened, you wouldn’t have to talk to the mean therapist anymore. 

Now

So now, she was getting her revenge. Everyday she watched her own four year daughter walk safely into her room. She watches her openly weep over something simple, like not having ice cream. She watches her hug her father with pure love and trust. She watches her put her plate in the sink without finishing her dinner. She watches her clean up her toys in a slow place, whining about all the work. What bliss childhood could be if a man didn’t spoil it. Every day she would call on her anger and get revenge. The kind of revenge where she watches her daughter grow up peacefully, blissfully unaware of what it means to be hurt by an adult. The kind of revenge where her daughter is safe under her gaze and not watching a kitten thrown until it dies. How many beautiful thoughts will sprout and grow in her daughter's head when it isn’t filled with violence. She will call on her anger when she is frustrated with the childish whims of her daughter and remember that while she is filled with rage over a childhood ruined, her daughter will not be filled with rage. Her daughter may have a daughter and she will call on the memories of her own mother, calmly hugging her, reading her a book, fighting for her to get the best things in life. Her daughter will one day marry and she will look for a partner who reminds her of the best parts of her own life. Her daughter will look for someone who doesn’t bring violence in at every chance but someone who brings calm to her life like a fog. The calm will cover her and keep her protected and happy. Her own anger will save her daughter and her future. She pictures the rage enveloping her family like a protection. Her revenge is protection for her family. 

After

Her children are grown. Her revenge seeps into their lives. Her daughter is 25 and brings laughter and love and knowledge into dusty corners of rooms. Her son has never raised his voice in anger. Revenge runs in their blood. They take it with them into college classes, bedrooms, offices, to their own lovers and children. It comes to them easily.