Beyond The Broken Glass3: Finally Mended [complete]

8.) Same Old Same Old

I sat in the living room covered in splotches of paint, my mind playing thoughts in an infinite loop. That seemed to never have an end. What about Kyson, what about Milani, what about Brandon? What about normal? What about the baby? All questions that couldn't simply be answered, all questions I was dying to have answered.

When I lost the motivation to finish my piece I set my brush down, absentmindedly I traveled over to the large window. It was lively out, children ran down the street, their backpacks on their backs, and their parents came out to greet them at the door. The shrieks and giggles of normal children filled the air.

Meanwhile Kyson and Milani played silent in their own rooms. They've grown too accustomed to having being silent especially when a strange noise occurs. I'm sure to other parents that was a blessing but to me. It hurt. My children where more on edge than your average child. Especially Kyson with all he had been through with Ray and that whole incident with them taking him and killing his mother. To locking him away underground. It was all too much for him.

I wanted him to have professional healing. Instead me and Brandon just remedy him with hugs and kisses. Even though when he wakes in the middle of the night screaming, not because he dreamed that a monster under his bed but because of the actual monster he had to encounter.

And despite all of the he carries on. I admired him though still it broke a piece of me. He endured a hell that no child should ever see let alone experience. I tried time and time again to ask him if anything about those days bothered him. But Brandon would tell me to stop trying to rip bandaids off of old wounds.

Only when we're alone did he share his feelings with me. How scared he was, how loud he cried out and how much he wanted his mother. He doesn't remember the night they took him from only. He only ever recalls waking up to being locked in a dirty room with rusty tables and chairs. Then there was me. The rest we went through together.

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?" I hummed as I stopped dazing off into space. He was standing right in front of me with a sad sort of look on his face.

"You look sad again? You and daddy mad again? Is it because I peed in the bed again? I tried to clean it up. I just had a really bad dream. I said I was sorry."

I sniffed hard as a single tear fell down my cheek. My poor child who now walks on egg shells. Because his father and sister can't seem to agree on what's best for the family. I don't want them taking the blame for I disagreements. Not like me and kyra used to blame our selves for our parents short comings.

"No—we not mad at you for peeing in the bed. We know you didn't mean to." I pulled him into my lap and held him close to me. He stiffened a little before he settled into me.

"You wanna tell me about your dream? Maybe it'll help it go away."

"It's always the same."

"Tell me,"

He hesitated for a long moment. Only after he took a deep breath did he begin to speak. The words that followed will haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Me—you—and daddy are in our beds. I get up but I can't run fast enough and I fall. When I get up again you I climb in the bed. When I get close you and daddy got blood coming out y'all heads. I kept calling your name but y'all never got up. Then I wake up."

My mind all but fizzled out as my equilibrium faded into an abyss. My son has dreams about us dying. This isn't just qn average bad dream of some sort. It's much deeper considering all we had been through and all we continue to go through.

Maybe he was right. Maybe now isn't the time for a new baby. I can barely soothe that ones I have now. They're forever scared and they need me fat more than anyone else does.

"I don't want y'all to leave me."

That was what he mumbled. He opened his mouth and began to speak again. His lips formed as if he was getting ready to tell me he was scared but he closed his lips once Brandon made his presence in the room.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Why don't you go get your sister and go play in the backyard."

"They can't—"

"We'll leave the back door open. We'll be able to see and hear them." I interjected before he could say no. Kyson continued to remain in my lap. His small hand rubbing in circles on my stomach. I didn't stop him. I don't know why he does it. I guess it was a comfort thing or maybe he sensed the same thing that I did.

I watched as he and Milani both traveled out to the backyard. Hand in hand. She squealed and giggled as she ran in circles. He sat off to the side. Plucking blades of grass and flicking them into a nearby puddle.

When I assumed they were too occupied to hear us. I turned my anger on him.

"This is beyond selfish." I hissed as I folded my arms across my chest. "Do you know what our son just said to me?"

"Bri—why every time I come in here you wanna argue about some shit? Huh? You never just let shit be. And stop letting him rub yo belly like that. You ain't—"

"Let me finish? Please?"

He threw his body down onto the tattered sofa. His eyes burning holes in me as his brows connected in the center of his forehead.

"Kyson told me that he has really bad dreams. Dreams about us—dying and leaving him behind."

He softened then. His stiff shoulders deflated his eyes slowly closed as his body slowly leaned forward. He placed his head in his hands as he processed it all.

"He doesn't pee the bed because he's too lazy to get up in the middle of the night. He pees himself because he's afraid of waking up and finding our bodies Brandon. I—I can't stomach that."

Now him begging and pleading to sleep with us despite him having his own room made sense. I knew this would be tough but when you have to hear it and sit with it did it really hurt. A new layer of pain added to my already painful mind.

Forget our trauma we were adults who would learn to suffice but our children. Our children deserve so much more.

"We have to do better by them."

"I know. Imma make a way for us. We gone be straight."