Three Little Birds

Damage Control

It had been several hours and I was aware that Mykel was no longer in the room with us. I do not know when he slipped silently out, but I hadn't felt his presence in some time.

Since Liz burst into the room and I grabbed hold of her for dear life, time had been spent alternately calming me down and Liz babbling about nothing softly against my ear. I didn't speak as she asked questions in the midst of her tellings. I knew she wasn't expecting an answer as she continued speaking as if I was every bit of the conversation as she. She ran her fingers through my hair and over my back and arms; every now and then running her thumb or knuckles across my cheeks, soaking up the tears that hastily caught gravity's power to slide down my face.

As the shock of the day began to wear off, my mind began conjuring reasons and moving pictures playing out scenes of a final destruction between him and me I. Still I clung to Liz, her shirt balled into my fists. At some point, I stopped shaking and slowly began to relax. He's really not going to want you now. Pathetic little whore. And just like that, that voice that had begun to recede slowly over the last several months was back in stereo and with it a fresh round of heavy lamenting.

"Baby, I wish you'd talk to me," Liz whispered as she held me closer. "Let me help you, Mattie."

"I'm never going to escape them, Liz. I'm never going to get rid of my mother's voice, her taunting me on every insecurity I have." My face remained hidden. I wanted Mykel so badly at that moment, for him to take me in his arms. But I hadn't seen him in hours and was terrified to ask after him. "I'm such a fucking mess, Liz. I keep fucking up. I keep pushing him away when all I want is to just be in his arms." As I said this I felt the bed dip down behind me and a large, heavy hand placed softly against my back. As a kiss landed just behind my ear he snaked his arm around me. "I'm right here, mon bonheur. I was never far, baby."

In an instant I flipped over, latching onto him with arms and legs alike as my crying increased with silent jeremiad that caused Mykel to pull me tighter against him. Through my ululating, I began a tangent of self-degradation and profuse self-effacing supplication. I begged him not to hate me. Not to leave me. I begged forgiveness for attacking him, for my reactions in general. I clutched and clung to him, my words so run together and muddled that even I knew they were incomprehensible.

Mykel didn't attempt to stop this but held me while the emotions continued to flood my brain and soak his shirt. This is the reaction I had always expected when I saw my parents for the first time after running away. But her betrayal far outweighed theirs in my eyes and seeing her there so unexpectedly knocked me backward in time and all at once everything came rushing back. "I was punished for her running away," I said after I'd calmed sufficiently enough to speak. "They beat me. They held me under the water. They starved me. Why didn't she take me with her?"

"Can I give you my opinion?" Mykel asked in obvious hesitation.

"Yes."

"When you're more prepared for it...I think you should listen to what she has to say. She did try and get you out, baby."

I shook my head. "She left me. She left me. She always said she'd never leave me. And she did." My fist pounded once uselessly against his solid chest.

"I know, baby, I know." He didn't want me getting too excited again. He kissed my forehead softly, lightly shushing me in a calming form, his fingers splayed against my back as his hand traveled the length of it.

"Y-you talked to her?" I asked quietly.

"Mhm. We talked a bit." I moved closer to him, seeking his warmth, his safety, him. He tightened his grip that much more. "I'm right here, mon bonheur."