I was in my room. It was cramped and small and dark and the sound of the world always roared relentlessly outside on the other side of the confining walls. It I was used to the roar. I didn’t mind it. I liked it, actually.
It was just me and Mommy, in our little house that Mommy worked her fingers to the bone for. She wasn’t working now, though. Mommy took good care of me and said she loved me everyday, but I couldn’t come out of my room to say I loved her back.
I was in my room, Mommy stood outside of it. I was sleeping and I think Mommy was too, but I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t leave my room to see. But I could hear her. I could hear her breathing.
The roar of the outside, the monotonous rhythm of my Mommy and I’s heartbeat, and my mommy’s constant breathing lulled me to sleep.
Then, I heard a roar. An unfamiliar roar vibrated past our front door and made me shake. Mommy shook too. I heard a band and Mommy screaming angry words. I jolted.
“No!” she screamed, “No! Go! Just let us be happy!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” an unfamiliar voice roared alongside my mommy’s, “Years. It’s been years and you still didn’t tell me!” Their voice was gravelly and strange. I had never heard their voice before.
“Just leave us alone!” Mommy screeched, blocking my room, protecting me from the outside world. “He’s mine! You can’t take him from me!”
“It’s just as much mine as it is yours!” they yelled back.
“He’s not an it!” Mommy shouted, pressing her hands harder to protect me. “And you left him! You left us! What makes you think he’s yours after that?!”
“I didn’t even know it existed!”
“Well you should’ve!” All I heard was yelling. Yelling that disturbed the roar. I didn’t like whoever was yelling at my mother. I wanted to protect her.
“You never told me! You lied to me!”
“You were never home!” They stopped now, and the roar returned, but not the comforting roar I had once known. This roar was tense and stiff. Our hearts beat in sync.
“How long?” the intruder said quietly. Mommy relaxed and lightened her protection of my room.
“Seven months.”
“And… you’re keeping it?
“If I wasn’t he would’ve been gone a long time ago.”
“So… you’re not going to-”
“It’s a little late for that, don’tcha think?”
“You… you can’t be serious. There has to be a way!”
“I’m not getting rid of him,” Mommy argued, “It’s too late.”
“Don’t tell me you’re attached to it?”
“Don’t tell me you aren’t! It’s too late. I’m not giving him up.”
“Jesus Christ!” they shouted, putting the argument on pause. The creak of a door squealing open on its hinges made me shiver and twist into the recesses of my room for protection from the stranger. “It has its own room?”
“Yes,” Mommy said promptly, shutting the door and shoving him away, “he has a room. A room you are not allowed in.”
“It… it has a bed?” That word was strange to me.
“Of course it does,” Mommy interjected, “A table too.”
“You have to get rid of this thing.”
“Like hell!”
“It isn’t good for you.” They touched my mommy’s chest. Her heart skipped. I flinched. They were not allowed to touch her. I did not want them to touch her. I heard a slap.
“It’s my house and it’s my life. I suggest you leave them both.
Leave, I thought, Just leave.
“I have a say in this!”
“Whatever say you had, you forfeited when you left us. And it’s too late now. This isn’t your house anymore. I’ll call the police. Now get off my property!”
Please leave, my head pounded, Leave our house or I’ll leave my room. But Mommy didn’t want me to leave my room. Not yet.
“You can’t live like this.”
“I don’t care.”
“I love you.”
“Leave.”
“I’m not leaving until it does.”
As you wish, I thought.
“I hoped you wouldn’t say that,” Mommy whispered.
I kicked and rolled and pressed my feet against the walls of my room. Mommy’s heart skipped. I twisted and swung to jar myself loose from the confines of the constricting walls. Mommy cringed. My head pressed into a wall, making it bend and cave. Mommy gasped. I pressed and pressed, jerking to and fro. After pressing just hard enough, liquid encircled their ankles. Mommy screamed.
