Ravish

2

 I remember all the nights I sat in my bathroom with my anti-depressants, pondering why my life came this moment. In fact, on three different occasions, I had made various attempts end my suffering, though it was my third attempt that made me realize that I shouldn't be the one suffering. You ruined my life in more ways than one and you still walk a free man enjoying everything about yourself while I've been waiting for the embrace of death. The days went by and the world you live in still spun, but I died that night. I walk this world without the feeling of a soul, and the knowledge of what I used to be. Even worse owning the heartache that I'll never have normalcy again. I feel I have no choice but to remain secluded in the public full of staring eyes. When surrounded by melancholy I seeked help instead of embracing my struggle. I needed to grab my life and realize who it belongs to. That same day when I left therapy and got on the bus, except I didn't go home. I went to parents. It's been forty-three stressful minutes on this bus and I anxiously scratched my arm as the bus neared their home. I can't begin to remember when the last time I talked to them was. I hear a screech as the brakes are applied and the comes to a stop. My heart is racing and my hands are clammy. It feels like ages since I last talked to them. In fact their last words to me were, "You disgust me, don't ever speak to us."

I suppose it's time to man up, though. My knees are trembling with each step I take down the busy street to my the residence of the family that shunned me. I thought about how much easier this would've felt if Dr. June was here to support me. That would only make things worse, and I need to focus on all the good that come out of this. Looking up I notice that I've just stood in front of their door this whole time. I raise hand in a fist to knock, but I'm frozen. The lump in my throat keeps getting bigger and I'm now shaking all while holding back tears. I don't know when, but I finally knocked. Seconds felt like hours and time seemed to stretch for eternity. The moment I was brought out of my daze was when the front door opened to reveal the face of my mother. She was laughing when she opened the door and her face fell when she saw me.

"What do you want?" she inquired with demanding eyes. This was the same woman who raised me and cared for me. When I need her the most, she abandons me. A tear fell from my face and my mother has the nerve to looked annoyed.

"Why?" I ask. My head had been down this whole because I had no courage to look her in the face. I felt anger towards her, though. All this time I felt put down because of the things that happened to me. I felt I deserved it, but no one deserves this.

"Why what? I told you not to contact us anymore don't make me get a restraining order." I looked up at her when she said that. Tears rolling down my face so causally. Not tears of sadness, but tears of anger.

"Get a restraining then. You know you're bluffing, but as to why. There are so many why's I have for you. Why don't you love me anymore? Why did you stop caring? Why would you abandon your child? Something terrible happened to me and when I needed you the most you turn your back on me!" I'm trying to control my rage, but it's seemingly difficult given the circumstance.

My mother looked at me in utter shock, "Honey, I never stopped loving you. How could you think that? What happened to you wasn't your fault, but we can't have that attention on us. You know that don't you?"

"How could I think that?" I yell out, "You can't have that attention! You can't live with the fact that your daughter, your flesh and blood, was raped. Let alone that it brought bad attention to you, what about me! I have lost everything mom, to the lawyers, the doctors, the realtors, and even to you; and you suddenly have the nerve to feel at a loss in the situation. Not to mention that I have been spending these past months rotting in what I can barely call my home, waiting to finally die; and I couldn't even call my own mother for help without her thinking I'm some sort of burden." I break down in front of her, showing her all the weakness I really have.

I see the kind eyes of my mother, the same eyes she had whenever I fell on the playgrounds, or when I needed encouragement for my dance recitals. Seeing those eyes gave me hope, I don't know what that hope was for, but I looked at her and she smiled at me. A tear fell from her eye, "I'm so sorry. God, I'm a horrible mother, how could I have done this to you honey? Please forgive me."

I look at her tense face of the woman who's done nothing but care for me. Should I forgive her? After all that she did, should I really forgive her? I feel I should be mad, but I almost feel at peace. She put me through a lot and I am still mad, but is this a bridge I should burn? You only get one mom, and I understand that; but does she deserve it?

I just realized I had been looking down, but I couldn't bring myself to look back at her. I need her now more than ever, though. I manage to face her and see tears pouring down her face, and I hug her like I've never hugged her before. "It'll get better from here mom, I promise you that much. I love you."

I feel so light, a weight was lifted today and it feels great. Me and mother are crying into an overdue embrace and it's the best feeling. When we finally break apart, she invites me inside. My father was probably at work so I would be having to repeat what just happened with him.

"I feel like we need to have a talk about your finances and stuff of that sort, but first we are getting your health up. Honey, when was the last time you ate?" she addresses me.

"I can't remember, I'm sorry." I say distraught.

"Don't apologize, go take a shower and I'll have a meal waiting for you when you get out. We still have your car, so I'll get your keys after you eat. If you need a place to stay for now everything is still in your room." my mom offers me. I nod and start at the bottom stair, "Before I forget, your father will be home from work around nine, so we have a few hours."

I didn't want to hear about my father in all honesty. Does that make me a bad person? I ignore these thoughts and head upstairs to take my shower and when I look in the mirror, I notice the vibrancy of my eyes, I smile for the first time since this whole mess started. I couldn't wait to talk to my therapist. I wouldn't say I was happy, but this is a start. One piece at a time my family is finally coming back together. Undressing myself, I look in the mirror and notice how thin I had gotten. I looked absolutely ghastly maybe that's why my mother cried so hard. It broke her heart even more to see how ill I was. My ribs poked out more than my shoulder blades. Turning the water to the shower on I notice how sensitive my body had become to water.

So I now sit in the bathroom using moist towelettes to cleanse myself and wash my hair in the sink. I finish washing my thinned hair, reaching for a towel I wrap my hair in it as to not drip water on the water on the floor, when I hear a sudden argument break lose. I open the door of the bathroom and cautiously walk down the stairs. Trying to find the source of the shouting I peek in the kitchen to see my father yelling at my crying mother. She looks up at me and mouths 'I'm sorry.'   My father turns around and looks at me with spiteful eyes, and all I could utter was, "Hi daddy, I miss you."