Even Wilder

Violet

Seventh Grade

My grandfather told my mother to have an abortion. That seemed rather insensitive, but my mother was married to a white man. Maybe in some sick way, my grandfather was trying to protect her from ridicule for having a child with another man. I'm not sure. But it left a mark. I didn't feel wanted. Never good enough. Not welcome.

My mother assured me that wasn't the case. She loved me from the moment she knew she had me. And she explained all the reasons why it didn't matter what anyone else said about me.

She was married to Tom. He was much older than her. Very controlling. Very bad for her, not anything a young woman needed in her life. But that's what she had, and she did what she could with it because she didn't know any other way. Her family was messed up. She didn't know any better.

Even though she was messed up, she made sure to love me. She figured that out. My mother adored me. She loved me even when she couldn't love herself. Maybe she didn't have enough love for both of us.

Tom was good to me. He treated me like his own. I was his princess. From the outside, everyone who knew us thought my life was great. But on the inside, darkness was festering. And I didn't realize until later just how messed up life was for me.

Some people showed love in the wrong way. Tom was one of those people. Tom's love came with black eyes and bruises. Mom tried her best to hide it all—but I knew it. He never hit me. And they never liked to fight around us. But some things you can't hide. Even when you think you are doing an excellent job of keeping it hidden it shows.

I was twelve when I recognized something was wrong. This fight Mom and Tom were having they couldn't contain it. It spilled out all around me. And they no longer cared if I witnessed it or not.

"I want you out of here," mom said, her voice so low and disgusted I had to do a double-take to make sure Tom was the one sitting there. She never talked to Tom like that.

"We can work this out, Lorna." He was begging her. Desperate to keep their life together. But the only thing she gave him was a flying cigarette to his face.

"I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you. I want you to leave." She shoved the table away from her and stood up.

"Lorna. Please. What about the kids?"

"You should have thought about the kids before you decided to do what you did, Tom." She stared out the door, arms crossed. Her mind was made up. Tom had to go.

I never cried so hard. I begged. "Please, you guys. Stop fighting. I don't want Dad to leave."

But neither one of them would give me what I wanted. I was used to my parents wanting to please me. I thought about calling my sister thinking maybe she could help, but I didn't. I didn't want her to see what I saw. I didn't want her to feel what I felt because it felt horrible.

Tom gave me one last hug before he drove off. "I love you, kid. Don't forget it." It broke my heart. It devastated me. Leaving your family wasn't the way love worked.

What happened next broke my heart a little more. Mom went back to the table and sat down. "Violet, come sit down I want to talk to you." She sniffled.

So, I did. I took the spot across from her.

"You're growing up." Was how she started it. "Turning into such a beautiful girl."

I was sure I knew what she meant by that. All the boys at school were noticing me. I had curves and breasts, and that made me embarrassed because boys liked looking at that stuff. They were extra nice now, offering to help me carry my backpack, carrying my tray in lunch. It wasn't until one of them tried feeling me up in science that I realized they didn't like me for the reasons I thought they did. They were just horny teenagers.