Her Dark Desire (In the Process of Being Edited)

29

I was running through the hospital doors towards the emergency room. Somewhere inside was my mother. My body aches. The muscle in my legs straining to carry my body as fast as I can. I wasn't ready to leave Paisley, I think. My abrupt laughter causes indignant stares from the people surrounding me. I couldn't help it. It's funny how my thoughts always return to my kitten. I realized something as I watched her squirm as I asked those questions. I didn't care. It hurts that the baby Trudy was carrying had to die. That my baby had to die but none of that could make me hate my kitten.

I stifle another coming laugh. Deep down I think I knew. Knew that my kitten... I never wanted to believe it before. As I think back to our conversations, the nonchalant attitude of hers when I mention the body of someone we knew had been found. I now know why she didn't care. I sigh as I continue to run. I can't condone her actions or the methods she used but...if killing would keep me with her, I would do it. The thought scares me but my feelings remain the same. I would kill to keep Paisley.

*****

I can hear my name bring called when I enter the crowded room. I scan the room, searching for the one calling me. I see her. She stands among a mixed group of doctors and police officers. I stop in my tracks and breathe deeply. For so many people to be there, things had to be worse than I thought. She didn't mention this in the phone call. She just told me my mother had to be taken to the hospital.

I slow my pace as I walk towards the group. Mrs. Wilkinson waves to me as I approach. Her bony hands grabbing mine.

"Thank God you came," she says. "I've tried calling your father too but I didn't get an answer."

"What happened," I ask. She pats my hand. Her red and swollen eyes tell me she's been crying for awhile. "What happened," I ask again. My words are louder this time. The other members of the group turn to me and the little old woman.

"I'm so sorry, Zeke," she squeaks. New tears begin to fall from her hazel eyes. I hug her to me while she cries. Her tears stain my shirt. She pulls back apologizing again as she reaches in to her pocket, removing a handkerchief. I watch her dab at both eyes before speaking.

"There was a robbery at your house. I think your mother surprised them. Oh Zeke, I'm so sorry," she sobs, wiping her eyes again. She snorts. "When I got there she was barely breathing. She was surrounded by glass, lying in a pool of blood. I...I...Oh Zeke. You poor boy. So many bad things happen to you." She grabs my shirt, balling the fabric into her fist. "I'm just so glad I got there in time."

I untangle myself from Mrs. Wilkinson and look over at the officers. They talk in hushed voices as I approach. "Are there any suspects," I ask. They look at me. The looks on their face says it all. They don't think it was a robbery.

"Not yet but we're still looking," one of the officers says. I shake my head. The next question I ask is for the doctors.

"Is my mother okay? Can I see her?"

"She'll live," he says. "There was some internal hemorrhaging. Probably from blunt force trauma. A broken nose. Some bruising of her rips. We saw some new and healing injuries," he sighs. "We've done all we can for your mother, the rest is up to her. If you like you can go and talk to her for a few minutes. Try not to upset her."

I walk pass the doctor. I hesitate when I see her in the bed. She looks so frail hooked up to the machines. I hear the steady beep of the heart monitor. I don't want to enter the room. I can't cry. Anger is all I can feel. I try not to let the emotion show as I walk to the bed. Her eyes are closed. Her chest slowly rising.

For years I've watched my mother get hurt at the hands of my father. Short trips to ER, either her taking me or me dragging her down here but I've never seen her like this. I start to turn when I feel a hand wrap around mine.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her voice is scratchy, unlike the sweet cheery voice I'm use to hearing. I smile down at her. It's forced. I don't want her to worry.

"Are you alright," I ask her. "Do you know who did this to you?"

"I'm fine. Just a little sore is all." She attempts to smile but fails. I can see the pain in her eyes.

"Do you know who hurt you," I ask again.

"No," she says. My mother is lying. She refuses to look at me. Her eyes blink back tears.

"Was it really a robbery?" Even if she tells me yes, I know it'll be a lie. It's there again. The rage flowing through my body. My mother would only lie to me if he did it. I wait for the answer.

"Yes," she says.

"Don't lie," I yell. People look into the room to see what's happening. I chastise myself for being so loud. I clamp down on my anger that threatens to overtake me. "Did he do this to you," I ask calmly. She tightens her grip on my hand. Her face starts to crumple. So it's true. I don't need her to say anything. I snatch my hand from hers.

"Don't do anything, Zeke," she whispers. "I brought this on myself. This is my fault. I should've..."

"Should have what," I whisper in a harsh tone.

"He didn't mean to. He loves me. He loves both of us."

"So he shows his love by kicking your ass all around the house. That's not love, mom. Where is he," I ask. Her cries are getting louder. I can barely make out her words. "Where is he," I ask again.

"I don't know," she cries. I can hear the monitor's beeping becoming more erratic. My mother's heart rate is elevating. Her doctors rush into the room. They push me back. They're telling me to leave. That I can't be in the room. The beeping is deafening. I want to cover my ears. More people enters the room, shoving me out to make room. No matter how far they push me I still hear that heart crushing sound.  

My mother is flat lining. I can hear them calling a code blue. Everyone is rushing, trying to save her. I can't cry. I don't want to be here. I walk pass a crying Mrs. Wilkinson. I shake off her outstretched hands. I can't be here. This is his fault and it's time he pays for his crimes.