The Power Of An Old Soul

Clementine 1

"Mommy, did you know daddy is my murderer? He killed me and my family." At three months I didn't expect my child to speak more than babbles, let alone utter an accusation with such clarity. I was dumbfounded, was that a television or the radio? But even as my ears search the air for the slightest sound I could only make out the cool steady air flowing from the air conditioner. Just as I was about to tell myself that I must be was crazy, that I had to have imagined it. My daughter speaks again from her bassinet "mommy are you listening?" without thinking I replied in a whisper "yes honey, I am". She sat up for the first time and smiles this sad smile, one of grief, one a child couldn't know, shouldn't know, or understand. "Mommy we need to leave we aren't safe with daddy."

Somehow every sense of my being as crazy as it seems, told me that my daughter was right, that I shouldn't question the possibilities of this, that I shouldn't freak out that my daughter has developed way more than most children her age, that no matter what I needed to leave and it had to be tonight.

Swiftly I went over a list in my head diapers, blankets baby wipes, clothing, bath supplies, money, and repeated it over and over in my head: over packing my travel duffel purse and diaper bag all the while. Almost in regret I start writing a note that I am going to my aunts and to leave on the table. "Mommy don't let him know where we are he'll kill are us if he finds us." I stopped mid-note; finally allowing myself to question.

"Have I gone insane? I mean how you can talk so early, I think I'm truly losing it..." I crumple to my knees staring blankly at the carpet. When did we get the carpet? A month or so before I got pregnant? We had such pretty hardwood flooring...

"Mommy this isn't the time to freak out we need to leave before he gets here." she states as a single tear streams down her face. It's as almost I don't even know my child any more, my sweet clementine, had never shed a tear since she was born she would cry but never to the point of tears; and there was no whining in this just cool, calm, sickly, sweet sorrow. I never wished to see her in such pain, or even think that I could be the cause of it if I stayed. Slowly I picked myself from the floor with a new-found determination in my heart, we had to leave. I pick her up along with one bag to carry to the car before fetching the other one.

When I get back in the house for the second bag the home no longer seemed to be the safe comforting environment it used to be, as though it were robbed of all joy. Even with the abuse I always saw it as the dream home filled with love, even if his love was a little tough.

My eyes scan the room making sure, I had everything. I pull off my wedding ring leaving it by the corrupted wedding photo, one that showed happiness no longer existent. "Don't worry Clem were leaving." I whisper quietly.

As soon as I close the car door after buckling Clem in. I feel a chill up my spine as if fear itself were licking up my spine. glancing around I notice from the corner of my eye the neighbor peering out the window and calling someone. As my breath stops I can make out a few words from her lips. "She's leaving the house with the baby." My heart almost seems to stop and burst as the realization strikes me. The neighbor is telling him I'm leaving.

Getting in the car I scramble for the keys: heart beating so loud I can barely hear Clementine's soft spoken warning "Mommy Susan is coming we have to hurry." I look up to see my neighbor has left her house and is walking over. Next thing I know I'm driving down the block with my neighbor screaming and running after me. It all happens so fast I can't even hear what she is shouting.

I am driving down the highway out of town, it takes what seems like an eternity, for my heart to stop pounding in my ears. I pull into the nearest gas station, turning off the car I place my head on the steering wheel to shield my eyes from the lowering sun. Where should I go... what should I do... I feel as though I really have lost it.