Embrace This Silence

Chapter 6: A Childhood Story, or Natasha Explores The Past

1

It was winter in Texas, which doesn't mean very much, most of the time. Sure, it was "cold," but not the type of cold up north. It was "rarely need a winter jacket, but a light jacket might be needed" weather in Texas is what it was.

I think I was, I don't know...13? What a fucking terrible age. Truly awful. We had recently moved to Grater from San Antonio. My mom wanted to get out in the 'country' or something. And so, we did. Grater didn't even have much suburban development at this point. It was still a mostly rural place. Sporadic homes, poverty, small, unique businesses here and there, but it wasn't exactly a great place to be. Sure, the urban sprawl of the nearby big city was creeping in, but it hadn't really gotten there yet.

The home my parents bought was only 900 square feet or so, but it was only me and my sister anyhow. It had two bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. It was cozy and simple enough, moving in was an ease, our family didn't have much to bring into the home. My dad worked miscellaneous blue-collar jobs, but it was never steady. My mom was a cashier at a Dollar General. The only good news is that this house was dirt cheap because nobody wanted to live in Grater, and for good reason.

Grater fucking haunts me. The fact that I still live here haunts me. The only reason I do still live here is for my mom. My father can go fuck himself.

Things got hard really quick once we moved to Grater. The whole move ended up being a terrible decision. There's no work here. My dad had to commute absurd distances for jobs that barely made the work worth it. My mom was able to secure a cashier job at a nearby grocery store, but it paid even less than the old Dollar General gig somehow. Things weren't going well. The U.S. was still in a recession, jobs were scarce. My parents really thought it was a good idea to move here, where jobs were already scarce before a recession. But I was 13 at the time, I had no real idea what was going on.

And well, eventually everything went to shit. Dad hits Mom. Mom divorces Dad. Mom gets custody of Kids. Dad moves to Wyoming to get away from it all. We barely survive, but we make it. We make it. My mom, my sister, and me. We make it. We succeed. We go to college. We get decent jobs (if my current job is considered 'decent'). We are stable and we're happy, mostly. Desperately anxious all the time, but happy.

Life as a kid wasn't great, it was difficult. It was a struggle, we treaded above water. We survived, though. But what is this American Dream? Where is our end of the bargain? Where is the end of the bargain for anyone at all?

I was exhausted, and well, frankly, we all are.

2

Senior year of high school is when it all happened. I was still dating Jacob at Christmas time. He had already raped me. I didn't really understand what had happened yet, and I wasn't really sure if I ever would, if I'm being honest.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of coffee. I had only recently started to actually drink coffee. Somedays, it felt like the only reason to get out of bed.

My mom came down the stairs in her pajamas and looked exhausted from her work shift last night. She would have to go into her management job at a crappy retail store tomorrow, December 26th, so everyone could buy nice crap with all the money and gift cards they got for Christmas, or well, return the things they did not want. Gotta keep the well-oiled machine running.

My mom had made the decision to invite my father to Christmas this year. Normally, it was a separate occasion, we would spend most of the day with mom, and then head to dad's in the evening for some dinner. It was usually just awkward and uncomfortable, but mostly harmless. He might as well be a stranger to me at this point. He was hardly a father. That was for certain.