Beyond The Broken Glass3: Finally Mended [complete]

7.) Changing Roles

As usual, the days started flying by in a blur of sameness. We stayed indoors, avoided neighbors, and stayed quiet. I painted while the children played. When I lost the inspiration to finish my piece I put my brush down and went to the large window. The shrieks and giggles of small children filled the air. School kids running down the street with their book bags on their backs and big smiles.

My kids wouldn't get that experience. To know how good it felt to finish a long school day and be able to run and go play with friends. The most school experience they ever got was sitting at our table with school books in front of them. Me as their teacher, nurse, tutor, and lunch lady.

I turned on my heels when I heard his boots stomping into the room. He had his phone pressed to his ear and his hand pressed to his forehead.

"So there's no trace?" He spoke as he kept his eyes on the ground. "You damn right I don't wanna hear that. That's a loose cannon out there."

"Whatever. Just find him." He snapped before he ended the call. I tried to act like I wasn't paying attention but I definitely was.

"Are we done talking?" I asked him.

"No." He pointed to the sofa and I obliged. He slouched down and placed his hand on my leg.

"Brandon, there is no end to this and I'm tired of running."

"What is you talkin' bout—we not runnin'."

"What do you call moving every couple of months to avoid somebody?"

"Survival."

"AKA running," I said as the tears filled my eyes. "I can't keep doing this to them. This isn't a life for kids."

"What do you think we should do. Leave the country?"

"Pick a place and stay. We have to get back to normal."

"Why you so damn dead set on stayin' in one spot?"

Now, of the time we've been together I haven't had many pregnancy scares. Only because it was almost impossible for me to get pregnant thanks to my endometriosis. But lately, I'm not too sure if it's entirely impossible.

"I just don't wanna keep moving them. I want them to have a solid life. With a permanent school and permanent friends. I wanna make friends and start a career do something with myself."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand down his face. He took a few moments to pause before he sat up straight and leaned forward on his knees.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it ain't safe yet."

"When will the world ever be safe? Hell Brandon—Danger is everywhere, do you think people just lock themselves away and live the rest of their lives in fear?"

"Why is this bothering you so much? Like you still new to this or some shit?"

"We are dragging them around the whole damn country," I expressed as I stood up and pointed to the pile of bags and boxes that we lived out of. "I can not—no. I will not bring a child into this."

His eyes looked me over and the way his brows furrowed together told me he was infuriated with my statement. He never wants to have these talks with me. Even though back then our stances were different.

"Bri. You not pregnant."

"I can feel it this time."

"You don't feel shit—so knock that shit off."

"if I go to the doctor—we'll know for sure."

"No." He said as he stormed off to wherever. I sighed and sat back down. I placed my hand on my belly and weakly smiled.

"It's real this time."

Later that night. I lay on the sofa bed by myself. He was angry with me. I knew he would be. With all the madness that's been happening to us we never got a chance to sit and make a solid plan for the rest of our lives. I know it's not the best time for a baby but it just gave me hope. That my body still worked. Maybe if we sit down and write out our goals maybe, just maybe we'll at least know what we want out of life instead of living like drifters.

I sat up in bed and went to my art supply box. Inside of it was a little sketch pad, I figured it could double as a journal. With a pen in my hand, I sat Indian-style on the floor with a swarm of thoughts churning through my brain.

What are some things you want out of life, Brielle?

Well, I want to do anything that pertained to art. Photography, digital media anything that would allow me to create. I want a big house with huge open windows preferably with a beautiful view. I want happy healthy children. I want a steady normal life.

"What you doin' up?"

"Overthinking about things that'll never be," I said sadly as I closed the book and put my pen down. It was cold in here until I felt the warmth of his body closing around me.

"I don't have an end game for us. We don't have a choice."

"There is always a choice," I told him as he pulled me back further into him. "We have a choice rather we acknowledge it or not."

"Tell me,"

"We can either find a forever home and defend it to the last breath or we keep running and leave no roots behind."

Our dynamics have truly changed. He was never one to run from any danger, he would stand his ground and fight. Now here I am demanding that we plant our feet on the ground and fight. I don't understand how we changed roles.

I tried my hardest to play my part but it was so difficult when things were forever changing, forever being endangered. I just wanted a place for me and my kids to belong. I want them to be comfortable and happy. After all they e been through they deserve that and some more.

And I'll fight him on this every single time.