"Is this your child?" I asked while avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, so why the hell are you with MY CHILD?!" The lady exclaimed while awaiting an explanation from me. As soon as she admitted herself of being her mother, my eyes darted straight at her.
"Your kid was outside my apartment. So why the hell are you letting your child wander out in such weather conditions without gloves!" I called out while trying to maintain my temper as my eyes turned to the young girl. Her hands look so cold. Without any other thought, I slowly grab her palms trying to warm them. Though shortly I was left astonished, as I looked at her palms there were purple bruises... I try to maintain my calm as memories flood through my mind of my past abuse. My parents would throw me into a cold frigid bath filled with ice, the coldness embraced my skin with numbness as my father pulled my hair, pushing my body further into the icy waters. It was their way of suppressing my bruises from the world, thus no one could doubt them as abusive. It was a cruel exchange where visible pain was traded for numbness and coldness starting from my hands. Her cold hands infected my body like a disease with its freezing temperature spreading its incurable disease to my soul, heart, blood, and mind till I was nothing but numb with coldness and the pain of my memories from my past that I thought was locked up somewhere in the back of my mind.
"What- Whatever, I'll let you off this time." The mother says as she trembles at her words. She knows that I know. The mother comes forward ready to take her child.
"What a nuisance..." She whispers under her breath before she kneels to her daughter's eye level and slaps her. I was left speechless as I clenched my fists, trying to utter something but just can't.
"WAKE UP DARLINGGG!" She screams in her daughter's ear very passive-aggressively. The poor daughter jumps up due to fear. My heart aches in agony. As I see a young girl much like me in front of me, enduring the same cruel past I encountered. The trauma still lingers in the back of my mind to this day. I wish someone did something to help me... but I had no one but myself so I had to help myself. I would rather have a million needles pricking my skin at once or scooping out my eyeballs. Anything to quit observing this insufferable scene filled with a river of nostalgia. As tears swell in the young girl's eyes as she forcefully gets up, we make eye-contact for a mere second. Though that simple glance felt like an eternity containing a roller coaster of aching emotions and misery. No words had to be said, nothing, no signals- just mere eye contact I could see her emotionless gaze, seeking a savior from the depths of hell.
YOU ARE READING
Cold Hands
RandomIn the heart of winter, where the world is cloaked in white and silence reigns, a young soul grapples with the weight of memories of past trauma and abuse that refuse to fade. As the cold winds howl outside, they find themselves lost in a labyrinth...
