Spoiled Secrets (21 page)

              I notice that he has a death grip on his wife’s shoulders anchoring her to where she stands.  I clutch Amber to my chest protectively.  He sees my movement and his eyes lands on Amber with disgust.  When they look back at me they are full of hatred.  I know one thing, I’m done playing nice.  My girl’s survival depends on me.  I refuse to let her slip any further away from me.

              “She’s not dead.  Any longer left bleeding out, she might have been.  I think if we can get some pressure on her wrist to slow the bleeding, I …I…she’s got to be okay. The ambulance should be here any minute.  I think she can make it...she has to make it!”  My words are rushed as I try to explain this, to this senseless man.

              “Get – Your – Filthy – Fucking – Hands – Off – Of – Her!  Put – Her – Down!”  He snarls at me.

              “Get the
FUCK
out of my way before I bulldoze your punk-ass!”  I yell at him. 

              “Let him through, what’s wrong with you?”  I hear Mrs. Wallace tearful question which, is being ignored.  I walk forward to exit the restroom and this crazy motherfucker blocks my way, yet again.

              I look around franticly because I know we’re running out of time.  She needs her wounds staunched quickly.  I growl in frustration because this asshole would rather for his daughter to die in my arms than allow anyone to tend to her.  I notice Cameron standing by the bedroom door taking in this whole fucked up scene with wide eyes.  I have no other choice; I’m going straight through this motherfucker. 

              Cam see’s it in my face and he moves silently into the room.  FUCK IT ALL!  I rush the bastard.  Me, carrying a limp Amber close to my heart.  I tuck my head, put on a burst of speed, and I rush this,
MOTHA-FUCKING-SON-OF-A-BITCH!
 

              “Cam!”  I yell in my best friend’s direction.

              This silly bastard loses his balance and exits the bathroom doorway, by force.  I pull off a move that any NFL coach would be proud of.  I’m able to hand off my very human size prize over to Cameron just in time.  The wide eye stare on Cameron’s face tells me that Mr. Wallace is up to no good.  Yeah, I know the number one rule in combat, never turn your back on your enemy. Unfortunately, I had no other option.

              I feel the impact to the back of my head as he tries to rock my bell, with a sucka punch.  As the punch registers, I notice Mrs. Wallace has jumped into her doctors mode, she has directed Cameron to lay Amber on the bed as she works on bandaging her wounds. Great, now I can deal with this!  All of my anger and frustration bubbles to the surface. 

              “
Do you know who I am?
”  He yells in my direction, sounding like a reject supervillain. 

              With lightning fast speed I perform a spinning back kick to his sternum.  I don’t give him time to fall to the ground.  I go on the attack.  How many times do I have to inform these simpletons, that I protect those who I deem are mine?  The look of disgust in this motherfuckers face because I tried to save Amber’s life, yeah, he’s fucked with the wrong one tonight.  Don’t’ come between me and mine!

              “I –
(gut punch) -
Don’t –
(kidney punch) –
Give -
(jab to the face) –
A FUCK –
(uppercut)
!  As he lands sprawled out on the carpeted floor I hear the sirens approaching.  I lean all up in his personal space and whisper my final words.

              “I’m not sure what happened here, but if I find out you had anything to do with it, I’ll fucking gut you like a fish.  I’ll kill you!  Just so you know, I’m revoking your parental privileges, asshole.  She’s MINE!  Do you hear me?  Amber is MINE!”  I glare down at him and dare him to deny my rights to her. I grunt and continue on.  He needs to know the score before I leave here tonight.

              “
Do I know who you are?
  Sure, you’re a dead man walking,
bitch
!  The question you should be asking is;
do you know who I am?
”  I let loose an evil laugh.  “Let me clue you in,
I’m your executioner, motherfucker!” 

              With that, I hit him so hard that he blacks out, just in time for the paramedics and the police to rush the room.

              Finally!

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

Psalm 119:105

So we have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.

2 Peter 1:19

Chapter 24

              What have I done?  What have I done?  “
Dear GOD, what have I done!?
”  I scream out loud.

              I am unsure how long I have sat here in the darkness kneeling and screaming,
why me
.  I am unsure if my eyes are open or closed.  There is a vastness of darkness surrounding me.  I can feel my hands and the smooth ground beneath me, but my sight of such things has eluded me.  This is not what I expected it to be. 

              I cry for seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months…I am unsure of the time because I am no longer on a plane that goes by something so, mundane.  I am at the mercy of another who is the ultimate master of time itself.  So, mere seconds to me, can actually be weeks, you see.  So, I sit and cry and wallow in my despair. I wonder for the millionth time why I allowed him, my father, to take me there.

              My life that I have foolishly revoked starts to flash in my minds eyes.  I see glimpses of a time and place that are foreign to me.  I see my mother, young and happy standing by a fair skinned handsome man.  He looks familiar …but…not.  I see a baby being cradled in both of their joined arms.  I feel the love deep down…who is this man? 

              In the next glimpse of a far forgotten past, I see a slightly older child.  I see the same fair skinned man singing lullabies and wiping away tears...from…mmm…
my eyes
.  I wail with the knowledge and understanding that this child is somehow, me.  I feel a twinge of longing for this version of my reality because this is what a father is supposed to be.  I feel the unconditional love generate and flow straight through me and attach itself with surgical precision to my soul. 

              I gasp for breath because the wounds that he has created, has always been exposed.  I’ve put bandage after bandage over my rotted and decaying soul. I gasp for air because this extensive surgery…I can feel it…I can feel it start its miraculous repair. 

              I scream out in agony as sharp pains dig into my psyche, to slay the darkness that once held me bondage with chains of guilt.  I focus on the metaphysical pain that has me writhing on the ground in this unknown plane.  I lay here as each speckle of darkness is meticulously removed.  Each wound is replaced by golden sutures guaranteeing me new strength, hope and a new existence. 

              As I lay under GOD’s phenomenal healing hands, I realize that every issue in my life began with a small speck of tainted sand.  The first speck was the not so innocent touches, which my silence was rewarded and bought with gifts.  The second speck consisted of,
“Give daddy a kiss, that’s my little princess”
.  These not so innocent specks of sand, these fertile seeds were planted in my psyche when I was merely three.  I realized now that I could have had the upper hand. 

              All the missed opportunities of coming clean, of speaking the truth flash before me.  I could have stopped this years and years ago, if I only chose.  But, I didn’t have the courage to verbalize what was happening to me.  How could a three year old…I guess it’s as simple as saying my ABC’s and “
mommy he touched me!”
  But, I didn’t know. 

              When the sexual abuse started happening I was afraid to say anything.  I was held back by images of losing my mother.  I cry some more because I could have stopped this, long ago.  I endured because I was scared.  I sacrificed my innocence to keep her alive. Oh mommy I’m so sorry, I’ve allowed us to live a lie!

              My sobs are quieted as I am soothed by phantom hands. My comforter runs his hands through my hair and starts to hum the lullaby from my earlier glimpse into my past.  I go still as words with a slightly musical tone float through my head.

              “
Satan is a deceiver, one who gives false impressions.  He wanted you to fear so that he could continue with his dirty deeds. But, the wool has been pulled from your eyes.  It will be hard for him to get over on you with anymore of his dirty lies.  Calm yourself my precious baby girl. I have been granted, but only a moment in time and I wish to hold you as I once did…as mine!”

              His spoken words bring on more emotional pain.  In this unknown land, in this darkness, in this void of space and time, I am lifted by ghostly hands.  Just for a moment, I relinquish my hold on my self-loathing as I allow him to hold and shower me in his angelic warmth.  I sink into his arms and let his love radiate through me.  Tears that stain my skin are wiped clean, my face is dried by his angelic hands.  All the while he’s humming my enchanting lullaby. 

              I feel his hand intertwine with mine, to my surprise a light starts to shine.  I blink to adjust my eyes as the light centers on our hands.  Nothing else in this space has been illuminated by this glorious golden light.  I gasp in pain as a starburst of light burrows its way from his hand to mine.  It continues its movement until a starburst pattern appears on both sides of my right hand.

              “
It’s something to remember me by; my time to depart is drawing near. It hurts, but I must say goodbye.”

             
The light starts to fade, in my mind I’m screaming, “
PLEASE
STAY!
”  I feel phantom lips press to the crown of my head, soon after, the ghostly presence quickly leaves.  I cry from the loss of him. I cry because something deep down in my soul tells me to hold on to him, that he is integral to who I actually am.  I am once again left huddled on the ground asking myself,
why
.

              “
Why!?
”  I scream aloud, not expecting to be answered.

              “Your so hung up on the when, why’s and how’s.  My son was hung up for you and everyone else you see.  So, quit with the hang ups because frankly, it’s insulting to me
.  My own sons hang ups, reigns supreme.
”   A mighty voice spoke in the darkness.

              “What kind of GOD allows an innocent child to be molested?”  I fire back angrily. 

              “The same
GOD
who sent his own son to die on a cross, that most would undoubtedly show daily, that
they are ungrateful for
.”  He responds forcefully. 

              How am I supposed to respond to that?  I’m so upset… upset at myself…upset at my father…upset at my mother…upset at the world…upset at GOD.  How am I supposed to approach GOD right now?  I want to scream and shout.  I want to point my finger at him and ask him why he didn’t do anything to help me.  But, he shot the “why” questions down effectively.

              “I know you’re tired of the “why” questions, but if you love me how can you allow people like my father walk the earth.  I don’t understand.” I’m perplexed and grasping for answers.

              “Do you not yet understand my love?  I cannot love one of my children above another, no matter their wicked ways. But, I must say,
you
intrigue me.”

             
I intrigue him! 
“If it’s not too much to ask…Is it possible to get some light in here.  I’m not trying to be rude, but for my entire life as far back as I can remember; I’ve been running around haphazardly in the dark.  I beg you; can I get a little light to see, it will lessen my fear?”  I ask timidly.

              What’s that saying,
be careful what you ask for
.  “As you requested, I will give you light.”

              I am blinded by the light that he has commanded to shine.  I am unable to look upon the room or the figure standing in front of me, but for only a second of time.  My eyes burn from the brightness surrounding me. I close my eyes from the stinging sensation the light has caused and once again I am plunged into darkness.

              “
Ahhhhhh!
”  I screech in pain.

              I hear him tsk at me.  “Why do you all try to demand and hasten my hand?  Do you not think, I would have given you light to see? Due to your impatience, look at what you have brought upon yourself.”    

              My eyes remain shut.  “I get it!  I must say that was a painful lesson learned and a little cruel.”  He chuckles.

              “I will have to disagree; I gave you what you demanded of me.  So, tell me, what have you learned?”

              I’m sitting up with my knees pulled to my chest.  My head is leaning on my bent knees.  My eyes are sealed shut.  I periodically rub my face across my clothed cover knees to wipe away the moisture leaking from my irritated eyes.  

              “Ummm - that even if a person wants something bad enough, it might not be the right time for them to take action, to take the situation into their own hands.  It might not be your designated time for their blessing.  And, if they force it, the outcome can become detrimental.” 

              “I believe you have gotten the gist of it.  So, my dear, why did you think it was okay to end your life prematurely, a life that is not you’re to take?”  I can feel him standing beside me.

              “The suffering was too much to ask anyone to take!  I felt as if my enemy was beating me senseless.  That he was strangling the very air you gave me to breathe.  With each breath the air became tainted and diseased, it became harder and harder to breathe, I felt hopeless.  I asked for your help…many time I begged you on bended knees, but I got no response. So, I gave up!”

              “Amber, do you honestly believe that I want any of my children to suffer?  I would like to point out that throughout all your suffering, throughout all of your anger and your bouts of cursing me out, you did not lose your faith.”  I feel his hands cradle my face.  I did not dare open my eye.  I can feel the brightness radiating off of him in waves, it’s like being too close to the sun. 

              “I’m so proud of that. Your faith is so strong, my young one.  Because of that, I had wondrous plans in store for you.  Although, my plans were sidetracked by your hasty attempt at hasten your death.  My dear child, I’m not done with you yet.”  He releases my face and walks away.  “Amber, did you expect me pop into the world, walk out through a magical puff of air and smite your wrongdoers?  Sweetheart that is not how it works.”

              “Yeah, sort of.  I thought you would appear to pull him off of me and punish him for harming me.”  I’m feeling all sorts of foolish at this point.

              “I was in the process of setting up your life.  I strategically placed people and things in your life that would help you and lessen your strife. But, again, you did not wait for me.  You decided to alter my plans.”

              “Sorry.”  This was my lame apology.

              “Let me show you the agony that you have left behind.

              He places his hand on my head and I am standing in a room…a hospital waiting room.  I see Keisha, Emily, Jazz, Cameron, Brent and Blake.  Keisha and Emily are inconsolable.   Emily is being held by Brent and Cameron is kneeling in front of Keisha speaking softly.  His shirt is stained in red.  Keisha must have said something about it because he grabs it and pulls it over his head and flings it in the trashcan.  This leaves him bare chest, he seems to not care.  Keisha screams, “
WHY?
”  Cameron looks haunted as he grabs her up in his arms and exits the room. 

              I’m somehow transported to another room.  I notice the doctors calling “Code Blue”.  I see Chase holding my mom in a tight embrace as she loses her ability to stand.  The scream she releases, reverberates over and over in my head.  Chase is not fairing any better.  He’s trying to be strong, but I see the tears and the trembling in his hands.  I see his lips moving worshipfully. 
What’s he saying?
I don’t walk, but somehow I’m next to him.

              I gasp and yell.  “
I’M HERE!  I’M HERE!”
  I cry seeing my mother in such a state of disrepair.  I cry and pray that what he is saying is true. 

              “Peanut said he’s got her soul…he’s got her soul…she’s not dead…Please GOD, I’ve done what you said…Babe don’t leave me…not like this, please don’t leave me…I don’t know if I can make it through this….nonononononononono…Nooooooo!”