Dear Traitor

Section Seventeen

Let us now skip to December 24th, 2020.

This is the day when God finally gave me freedom.

A month prior to this, I came across this thing on TikTok called reality shifting. It is a practice where you shift your subconscious mind to a different reality. Basically, you would lay in your bed, count to 100, and travel to the multiverse. I do not mean to offend any reality shifters reading this. If you take anything from this book, do not take offense. However, it is a demonic practice, yet thirteen year old me was delusional enough to believe I could "shift" to see Draco Malfoy. I know, it sounds ridiculous. The only reason I believed in it was because I was so desperate to escape you. The scary part about this is reality shifting is related to witchcraft. There are certain crystals that help you shift and certain phases of the moon that also supposedly help. However, I was too gullible to realize.

My cousins happened to be visiting that Christmas. I told one of my cousins about shifting realities, and she believed it too. (I apologize for putting her in danger). That night, we laid in bed and performed the shifting realities ritual. However, thirty minutes after we went to bed, she became frustrated that she could not do it. She got up and cried to her mom about it. That was when the news got to you.

That was December 23rd. The following night, you came into my room to have a talk. Little did I know that this would be a lecture apart from the rest. This would be the only lecture in which I would not shed a single tear. It would also be my last one.

You confronted me about reality shifting, telling me it was witchcraft. But, something was different. For once, you were not yelling. There were no flames burning behind your eyes. You did not shout. You were not aggressive. There was no tension in the room. Your voice was oddly calm. You did try to warn me with a much softer heart. Yet, after all of those previous years of belittling me and shaming me, I refused to believe you. I was bitter towards you. I am sorry. I should have listened, but you lost my trust years ago. It was too late to do the right thing with the right approach. In every lecture you gave, you should have been as relaxed as you were on the night of Christmas Eve. You should have always given yourself time to cool off.

It was too late to try to change your ways at that given moment, though it may not be too late now. But on that night, I hated you just as much as you hated me.

In reply to you informing me about the dangers of shifting, I said "I didn't know". Even though I did not care for your opinion, I pretended to be remorseful anyways. I had no intention of abandoning my ways. I continued to believe it was safe.

Also, many months prior to this, I began enjoying Harry Potter. You told me I could watch the movies at your house. However, the next time I came back, you told me I couldn't because it was "witchcraft".

All Harry Potter spells are Latin phrases. All of it is make belief. I am aware none of it is real.

But I could not explain that to you. I knew I would automatically be wrong if I tried. Therefore, saying this, you probably believed I learned about reality shifting from Harry Potter rather than the influence of social media.

You then requested to search my phone. You went through my messages, which you did regularly. You then tried to watch my TikToks, but there was never good service where you lived. After all of this, you ask this simple question.

"Do you want to be here or not?"

Although the simplicity of it was clear, it still felt like a trick question. Yet again, you were not fuming with rage. You were not screaming. You proposed to have given up.

You have asked that question on multiple occasions. When I would say no, you blew up and accused me of loving my mom more because she "spoiled me". You are right. My mom did spoil me. She spoiled me and Hope with love. She works day and night to feed us, clothe us, shelter us, and do activities with us like shopping and going on vacation. Not only that, Mama listens to us without judgement. When we talk about our interests, she did not try to turn it into an exhausting "life lesson". She celebrates our accomplishments. She always has our best interest at heart. She spends time with us. She understands us. So yes, I do love my mom more than you. If you need to know the true definition of love, look at Mama. Stop holding a grudge against her. It is making you bitter. Forgive her. Love her. Stop trying to make her life miserable.  Seeing her suffer will not give you happiness.

Also, she pays for everything, and you go bragging to everyone at church that you don't have to pay my child support. You're pathetic.

Later on, I began lying when you asked if I wanted to be at your house. I replied yes, but I desired to kick and scream and shout until you kicked me out. The only reason you kept me at your house anyways was not because you loved me. You just wanted to keep me away from my mother. You wanted to punish her, but it only felt like a punishment towards me.

Again, going back to December 24th, 2020.

"Do you want to be here or not?"

I answered no. I was willing to take the risk. I was done letting you control me with fear.

Your next response changed everything.

"Okay, pack your stuff and leave."

You then left my room to text my mom. I sat on my bed stunned for a moment. The next few moments of packing felt like a blur. I even remember glaring at myself in the mirror.

Did he really mean it? I thought. Am I really never coming back?

I pictured myself never having to count down the days until I went to your house and the days until I returned to my home. Home was Mama's house. Prison was your house. I imagined life without constant lectures, repetitive reminders of past mistakes, and angry screaming. For a moment, I saw a glimpse of peace.

I cannot say I know why you let me go after all this time. You were always one to say I couldn't leave because "the court papers said so". Not because you wanted me there, but because you had the legal obligation to keep me there. Maybe you thought I would bring demons into your house. Maybe you finally accepted the fact that I was uncomfortable at your house. All I know to say is thank you for letting me leave. I would be a horrible person today if I stayed at your house. I would be ruined mentally. So thank you for giving me a choice for once. I may never know why you let me go, but all I know is that it was something miraculous. I know that God was there.

I had no more time to form thoughts anymore. My mother was outside waiting for me. Before I left for good, you told me this.

"I'll be here when you are ready to talk."

Not the exact quote, but close enough. Perhaps you believed I would come back. Maybe you actually thought I could not possibly leave you. After all, you thought I needed you to survive. You thought I would come knocking on your door, begging for you to let me in.

I guess I proved you wrong, because months later you were the one demanding I come back.

I have not spent the night since.