Three Little Birds

Water

The last few days have been interesting, to say the least. After that first night of staying at Liz's, the bond between us had immeasurably fortified.

After I had announced that small confession she pulled me into a tight hug, one that told me, as did the words following, that it would have been an honor to have a son such as me.

I didn't know if I completely believed her, but my inner child wept at the admission.

"Mattie," she said to me as we sat on that same porch swing. I looked from the pond, my attention was drawn to her voice and away from the swimming turtle that had been journeying its way across the expanse of the water. The sun was fading and shadows were plenty, but it was not completely dark.

"What happened to you?" She was looking at my arms. Her fingers came to trace over the cyclical scars that adorned them. Her voice was a heavy whisper, laden with fury and a deep sadness.

By the look on her face, she was as shocked that she had asked me that as I was. My eyes instantly watered and I looked down at the scars.

It was a warmer day than it had been, even with winter coming, and I had unthinkingly put on short sleeves.

"I..." My throat closed off as I tried to form words. Images of my past began throwing themselves full throttle into my limbic system, sliding through my temporal lobe like a water slide at a theme park.

I had never before spoken of my past to anyone. Beyond anyone ever caring enough to ask, I had never felt strong enough to volunteer the disclosure. Did anyone really care? My mind argued no, and my logic did not rebut, because if no one implored, no one cared. Right?

And now here it was that someone did care enough to ask.

"They hated me," I answered simply, unpretentiously unable to say anymore. I felt threatening tears fall, like clouds that dexterously could not hold any more rain.

"Your parents?" she asked softly.

"They always told me so. They...they..." Everything in my mind was screaming at me to run. Run from her questions. Run from the memories. I don't remember running away from her. I don't remember bolting up from the swing and running down the porch steps.

I vaguely remember hearing Mykel shout my name, worry filling his tone.

"What did you say to him?" I heard Mykel ask before I heard his resounding footsteps gaining abaft.

"Mattie, stop!" he cried from behind me.

I kept going, ignoring his pleas, trying to outrun the chimera of my past.

"Mattie, stop! Please, stop!" Mykel called from behind. I did not know how he had not caught me yet. His legs are so much longer than mine.

The sky was growing darker by the moment, visibility was low, to say the least. I didn't notice I was too close to the water before I was sliding in the surrounding muddy bank, and falling into it.

The water was cold, shocking the breath from my lungs. The panic fulminated throughout my entire being, multiplied by the panic I was already submerged within.

I hated the water. Even now I have trouble with it, but with the everlasting patience of Mykel, I'm beginning to overcome this particular fear.

In an instant I was transported back, dragged through the wormhole of my past, clawing at ethereal walls to stay in the now.

I heard them laughing at me, muddled as it was under the water. I fought to bring my head up but everything was becoming so heavy. My fights began to lessen, my body deprived of oxygen and becoming weaker. I see his fist hover above the water before plunging down into my diaphragm. Water flooded my lungs and I knew this was the way I was going to die. I was terrified, but I welcomed it. If only to make this stop. It would be another eight years before I made my escape.