Together Apart | ✓

|Chapter XLI|

Nothing changes if nothing changes

Chapter 41: Like father, like son

When I read the police report, the first thing I wondered was how and why Jordan got hurt. The report stated that he was barely five years of age and had suffered a fractured skull and memory loss.

Imagine the pain Cali went through seeing her son in a hospital bed fighting for his life. But think how she felt when the person who put her son there was her own husband.

Out of all the things I assumed of what kind of man Jordan's father, abusive wasn't one of them.

"How and why would your father try to kill you?"

It didn't sound right. For a person to kill their own child must've meant they were mad. Why would someone think of ending the life of an innocent child? It was insane.

"They were having troubles within their relationship when I was three, even before then. He was starting to again, get abusive towards my mom. She'd attempt to help him but he didn't think he needed the help. No one knew what was happening behind the closed doors and he wasn't planning on opening those doors. It would've been bad for business and to break any suspicion he forced my mom to 'take a break' and stay home like a wife was supposedly to do."

"After almost a year she decided to leave him for good but it was a hassle as he basically had her on lockdown. But that's when...when the incident occurred."

"What happened?"

"Mom claims that he loved me but you don't try to kill someone you love, now do you." He painfully laughed.

I wanted to hug him, comfort him to let him know that I was here for him. I had no idea how he felt however I was willing to help him in any way possible.

"For months, I wondered what my night terrors meant and would do anything to know. I would search high and low for answers but now that I know...they've gotten worse. It's only been a few days since I've discovered the truth but now they're clearer, more detailed. I've had constant flashbacks of the incident."

He stood up and started pacing and pulling at the tips of his damp hair.

"I feel so damn stupid!" He screamed. I jumped caught off guard. "How could I not piece it together on my own to know that my own mother was being abused by my so-called father. He f*cking raped her and I was the end result of it. And she had to deal with a burden and still does. I'm a f*cking mess!"

I tugged on the flannel shirt around me. He was starting to scare me. It was unknown what his next step could be.

In his poem, he'd mentioned something about demons and I felt like I was at the moment witnessing them. His voice held such anger and pain.

"Say it, Ray. I'm a mess. I'm a burden—"

"You're not a burden." He stopped.

I'd once upon a time called myself the same thing. That's the kind of things you'd think when you felt like nothing. When everything was crashing down on you, it's what snuck into your head. You degrade yourself to in a way try make you feel better but it never does. It makes you hate yourself even more.

"Right. I'm not a burden. I'm a product of a crime. How lovely. Wonder why he wanted to kill me. As soon as he saw my mom and I with our bags he had to blame someone and it was me. He was drunk and grabbed me by the neck and slammed my head against the f*cking marble floor countless times until a pool of blood surrounded me."

"Oh, gosh." I muttered. "Jordan, I..."

I wanted to apologise, but what for? Sorry that your dad almost killed you? Sorry that I wasn't there for you? There was nothing to say. What could I say to such? It was horrible what his father did to him. And what for? Because he couldn't think straight and put all his anger on an innocent toddler.