Nameless
By Amethyst Turner
A name should be
A work of art
A little piece
Of love for us
Bestowed by our parents
But it is apparent
That obviously
They never loved me
XXX
Libby never called the baby by it's name. She hardly even called it 'she'.
Richard, however, said it's name every chance he had. "Morning," he'd mumble to Libby, and, "Morning, Aimee," to the baby. That was his nickname for her. Aimee.
As the days went on, she took the baby out of the drawer less and less. After two and a half months, she stopped rocking it in the morning and kept the drawer closed for longer and longer every day.
The baby's screams became weaker as the weeks went on. Libby stopped responding to them altogether. Around three months, it stopped almost completely. The baby only cried when it needed to be changed or when she shut the drawer.
Richard had left mail on the table last night. She was avoiding the stack, the bills, the magazines, the coupons to places she couldn't go.
A purple envelope jumped out at Libby from the heap. Seeing that it was addressed to her, she picked it up to read the return address. 112 Hollands Lane. Vita and Mike Williams. She slit the envelope open with her thumb, wondering what her parents could possibly want with her.
Midway through the seal, Libby changed her mind and set the letter back on the table.
XXX
"Are we sending Amethyst to Virginia, then?" Richard asked that night, seemingly out of nowhere.
Libby raised her eyebrows in the dark. "Um...why?"
"Didn't you read your parent's letter?"
"No."
"Well they offered to take her for the summer."
It was hard to believe that July was already upon them. The days were getting longer and longer, while the heat rose and rose. Libby didn't much care for the summer, the damp bed she shared with her sweaty husband much less.
Richard made it clear that he didn't love Libby, but sometimes he would come home drunk and delirious from the severe heat, eager to see her. Those were the only times when he kissed her and usually the only nights they had sex.
She had no control over him when he was drunk, so she let him do whatever he wanted to with her.
"So are you gonna send her?" he asked.
"I guess so, if they're willing..."
"Kay, just call them tomorrow."
"Can you do it?"
Richard turned on his side, away from Libby. "They're not my fucking parents."
"Fine," she sighed. "I'll do it."
YOU ARE READING
The Catharsis
General FictionIt gets better. Isn't that what they say? Amethyst Turner isn't so sure. She waits and waits, but things only get worse. She sees happy families on TV, with a father and mother that love each other and their kids. They have a dog, and a nice house...
