Sometimes I understand that they’re still young and feel like I took away their ability to live their youth. Now at 25 they are forced to raise a kid they didn’t ask for.
They tried to get rid of me multiple times. When my mother gave birth to me, she waited till the nurse left the room to let her rest. She got up and walked towards me, she grabbed my body, wrapping me in a towel as she walked out of the room hiding me from prying eyes then she walked into a different woman’s birth room, leaving me there. The nurses wrote the time every baby got born so they knew I belonged to her. Her plan failed but it wasn’t the last attempt. When I was 5 years old, my parents had a huge fight, glasses breaking and my mother screaming.
“Tyson, I can’t live like this anymore!”
My father snaps and throws an empty vodka bottle, launching it to the wall as it shatters everywhere.
“I’m fucking done, Ruby. You always play the victim as if my life wasn’t ruined as well!”
My father’s head turns towards me, his eyes burning red with fury. I take a step back and raise my hand towards me to keep a distance between us.
“N-no.”
It was the only word I knew.
He lunged towards me, grabbing me by the neck. “This little shit is the reason we are like this, and I’m fed up.” his mouth foaming with anger. He raises me off the ground and I choke, looking at my mother hoping she would do anything but she never did. She stood there looking at me with her hollow gaze as if it would be a relief to get rid of me. I claw onto his hand, trying to get away. He walks us out of the house and throws me into the car backseat. He moves to the driver seat, yanking the door open and speeds away.
I hug my knees to my chest not sure where we are going but I don’t want to make a sound.
Maybe he will forget I’m here.
I try to stretch my neck so I can see from the window where we are going but I can’t.
My body snaps forward as the tires screech and we stop. I had no time to realize what’s happening as the door beside me opens and I’m grabbed by the collar of my shirt. I sob as I try to get away but my father’s grip is stronger. We are in the middle of nowhere. The street is dark and all I can see is a faraway building that looks like an abandoned factory.
“N-no papa!” My face snaps to the side as my father backhands me. “Don’t call me that! What did we teach you? Answer me!”
“S-sir.”
They never liked me to call them mom and dad. As if it’s an insult or a reminder of their mistake.
He throws me away as my back hits metal and a musty smell fills my nostrils. I look up and see that he threw me onto a dumpster, surrounding me with rubbish.
“You will stay right here and never come back.”
He walks away as I breathe heavily, watching as he gets into the car and drives away leaving me alone to waste.
I crawl away from the dumpster and look around, hoping someone will save me but I have no one to go to and if I stay here, there are people who are worse than my parents in this town.
That day I walked back home and took a beating from my father but at least it was the only place I had.
I take a deep breath letting the memory vanish away as I grab the handle and step inside the house.
The smell of alcohol, dirty laundry and sweat fills the living room as smoke fogs the air. My mother sits cross legged onto the worn out maroon couch. Weed smoking as she watches the television, I close the door behind me. She doesn’t bother to look at me “Did you get anything useful today?” Her voice raspy and I don’t answer.
Heading towards the stairs as it creaks underneath my feet and then I hear it.
The sound of the bed creaking and heavy breathing as I stop and turn back downstairs, not wanting to see my father sleeping with my mother’s friend again.
The first time I caught them I thought my mother would care but she didn’t. Her brain is rotten from the drugs she inhales daily.
I walk towards the kitchen and see the pot of soup I made is moldy, grabbing it and opening the tap water, letting it rinse.
“We have no food for tomorrow so you better figure it out, you have a roof over your head so you better make yourself useful.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I clean up the kitchen as best as I can and make a note that I need to steal something from the grocery store to eat, before my father notices and takes his time to remind me of my place.
