"It ain't a lot, but it's ours."
_
I examined my reflection as I stood before the mirror of our restroom. I took a real good look at myself. It has almost been as if I could see words of degradation carved into my caramel toned, dry, scaly skin, as my eyes moved from one place to another.
I then grabbed my tooth brush and the Colgate toothpaste, squeezed just a little out. Though we didn't have much paste left, I wanted to save some for mama. After turning on the sink, I applied just a tad bit of water to it, but not too much to make it fall off of the toothbrush. Lastly, I placed it in my mouth, and started brushing. All while doing that, a number of thoughts ran through my mind. I mean, I knew Mama and me didn't have enough, but we had somethin'. It probably hadn't been a lot, but it was ours. Don't get me wrong, I had quite a few things to cry about. Maybe too much. But, I had a few things to smile about, also.
After brushing, I used a wash cloth to wash my face, then I threw the cloth in the dirty laundry basket that sat left of the bathroom.
My head hung low, all while I felt like I was about to explode. I thought that me hiding my tears before, made me feel worse. But I soon learned that there was nothing worse than crying almost every hour, of every day that passed.
While standing over the sink, tears had been cascading down both sides of my face. At the attempt to wipe them away, more and more began to fall. They were then uncontrollable.
"You don't have to keep wiping them." A low-pitched, dull voice spoke.
I looked up, through the mirror, and saw Mama standing behind me. Her eyes and nose both had been awfully red and her arms were folded against her chest. She had been crying, too.
"Why don't you come have a seat, and we can just---" Mama spoke in a calm, but shaky voice.
"Talk?" I finished her sentence.
We both exited the bathroom, and made our way into the bedroom. I took a seat on the bed, while Mama sat down right next to me. She then put her arms around me, applying soft kisses the top of my forehead.
"Can I ask you a question, Ma?" I looked up to her.
"Anything you wanna know," she spoke with her eyes closed, "I'll try my best to answer it."
I breathed heavily all while a question buried in depth formed in my throat. What I was going to mouth would probably succeed at hitting home for Mama. Something that would bring upon uncomfortable space. But, it was something I needed for clarity. "Why did you do drugs?"
With my eyes never leaving hers, she looked down at me, and stared deeply. Painstaking tears slowly made their way down to the ends of her face. The words that she was about to release, were words I didn't know how to prepare for, and if I should've prepared for them.
"Sometimes in life, when you go through so much, you don't know how to handle the pain so you do things that you think will take the pain away." Mama paused, then continued with a sorrowful tone, "I prayed and cried, prayed and cried. But nothing had changed."
I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I, of all people, totally understood the words her tongue fiddled with. It was true--sometimes pain was just that unbearable. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"No, Jay." She shook her head from side to side. "You don't have to apologize for my actions or problems. It's not your fault. It's all on me."
"What about daddy? He'd beat you so bad, Ma." I placed my hands in the palms of hers. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that she stayed with a man, for as long as she did, that'd beat her soul out of the pores of her skin and tried to convince her that it was her fault. "Why didn't you just leave him?"
"I loved that man. I loved him so much."
I frowned up when mama said that. Love was one hell of a thing, but there hadn't been enough to go around to stay with an abuser.
She went on with, "It's not always that easy to just...just up and walk away."
My head moved in an up and down fashion all while I reached over to the other side of the bed, grabbing a few pieces of Kleenex from the box that sat upon the chair next to our bed. After handing Mama a few, I then used the rest for myself.
"Ain't nothing crazier than loving somebody who hurt you, and thinkin' they love you, like you love them." Mama continued.
I turned away from her and, instantly, more tears began to fall. An expression of curiosity settled within my face.
"What is it, Jay?" She read the formed expression.
"Why did you wait so long to tell me about you and Courtney," those words fell from my lips covered in a dull tone. "And, why didn't you tell me about this other sibling sooner?"
"Courtney is no longer important to me," she said, shamelessly. "And she will remain irrelevant to me. You don't do those types of things to the ones you love. It's something how the ones who promised they'd never hurt you, are the ones to do it."
I sighed at such an ironic statement.
"What about this other child?" I then asked. Some secrets were never meant to be secrets. If I had really had a sibling I should've known.
"I've never even seen that child befo', not a day in my life. I don't know where he or she is. But, what difference would it have made if I had told you sooner, Jay? You would still be hurt from finding out, and you probably wouldn't even want to see him or her, no way."
"Okay. Maybe you telling me sooner, wouldn't have made a difference about how hurt I would've been. You got a point there. But, now you are speaking for yourself. You probably wouldn't want to see him or her, because their face would just remind you of what Courtney and daddy did to you." I paused. "I deserve to know him or her."
