Little Troubles

Part 1-The Past Pt. 1

September 1, 2002

He had really been looking forward to this birthday. He would no longer be a baby; he was now officially Not a Baby! He danced around in his room, as he thought of all the things, he was now old enough to do. He spoke incredibly well for his age, and he could now tell the others about some of the things that caused him nightmares. He could share now. He was old enough to protect himself and his mother. It was finally time. He knew that his mom would make him a cake. She always did. He would also get a large glass of banana milk to wash his ginormous piece down. And all of it would be done before his stepfather came home from work.

As he quickly got dressed to run downstairs to the first floor of their home, he could hear the muted sound of yelling, from beyond his bedroom door. He had just got his pants fastened (all by himself, mind you!) and he ran down, as his mother began screaming. He nearly fell as he rushed toward the sounds. As he rounded the corner, he was struck speechless. There was his mother and stepfather fighting. His stepfather pulled back his fist and hit his mom with such force that she flew back and hit the counter with a loud thud. As a soft sigh edge with a moan escaped from his mom's lips, he stood there, transfixed as his stepfather keep screaming for her to get up as she crumbled to the floor. But the boy could see something that his stepfather couldn't. The bright red liquid that was spilling from his mother's head. He began to cry soundlessly as he moved toward her. As his stepfather continued to rant and rave at the woman who was visibly unconscious, the boy moved to stand in front of her.

When his stepfather began to scream at him to move, he shook his head and eyed the man with a dazed look in his chocolate brown eyes. He wasn't going to move. He was old enough to protect his mom, but he was too late. She was hurt again, because of his stepfather. His eyesight began to become fuzzy and he couldn't see so well, but he was ready when his stepfather moved to him; he was ready when the man picked him up by his hair. He was ready when he was thrown down hard to the ground. He wasn't ready for the slick liquid that was on his hands. or the awful smell. He remembers what his mother had told him if something bad happened. He crawled to the living space and found the phone. It took so many tries to get the right number. In the end, he called the only number that he could remember.

"' Ello? may I pwease speak to Minie? It's kookie. my mom is hurt, and I don't know what to do......", he said softly, just before he himself passed out.

A year later he had to talk to a judge about what happened to his mom and stepfather, though he had no idea what happened to his stepfather. The last thing he remembered was being thrown to the floor. He knew his mom was dead; killed on impact when she hit the kitchen counter, and the large knife that was there. She was dead before she even hit the floor. He couldn't understand all of it. But he did understand that he didn't have a home. Even though Minie's parents were working hard to take him in, his stepfather's family wanted him with them. He was the only immediate family either his mother or stepfather had. Apparently, before marrying his mom, his stepfather had adopted him. He hadn't been told. The monster had been his father, but only in name. He knew who his father had been. He remembered him. He remembers his laughing green eyes that seemed to always have a shine to them. He remembered his laughter and how when his father laughed, no one could hear it without laughing also. He remembered how his father had always taken the chance to hold him tight as if he never wanted to let him go, tight enough that their heartbeats seem to merge into one. He remembered. The man who had killed his mother and then himself had not been his father, he had been his enemy. No paper could dispute the overwhelming evidence of that fact.

The Parks would have to wait while he was put in a facility to take care of children who had suffered severe physical and psychological trauma. He wasn't sure what that meant but he knew he wasn't going home, and he wasn't going to the Parks, but at least Minie and his family could visit as often as they liked. But he was beyond wishing for it. He wished for only one thing...