Page 109 of Gabriel's Salvation

“They were mine and Nate's foster parents after we got taken away,” I say as I light a cigarette and take a long drag.

“Why did you get taken away?”

“Because my father was a sadistic mother fucker, who used to beat us, starve us, and abuse us in every vile way imaginable.” I add as I try my hardest to stay calm and keep the emotion out of my voice. The only way I'm gonna get through this is to be as factual, honest, and to the point as possible.

“Every way imaginable? Does that mean…” she asks hesitantly, and I know exactly where her mind is trying hard not to go.

“Not Nate, no, never Nate,” I reply, praying that she’s able to read between the lines. I take a large gulp of my drink, praying for the usual calm it brings me as I try to distance myself from the situation. Not wanting to go down that particular memory lane.

“Oh,” she says as she looks at me with a sympathetic look. One that hurts far more than any memory ever could.

“Next question. Please,” I whisper, unable to take the pity a second longer.

“Okay, why did you come back? Why didn't you stay with the Jacksons like Nate did? You could have had a happier life like he had.”

“I didn't know how to,” I admit.

“What do you mean?” she asks as she looks at me with furrowed eyebrows and an inquisitive look.

“What you have to understand is that me and Nate are built very differently. My father was an absolute cunt to both of us. He hit Nate more times than I can count. But the way he tortured me was on a different level. He knew how much I loved my baby brother, and used that against me every single day. He would beat on Nate, make him cry, and cover him in bruises on a weekly basis. But those bruises would eventually heal. And once the attack was over, it would be calm for a few days. I never had that calm.” I admit as I take another drag of my cigarette and chug some of my beer.

“You see, I lived with the constant threat looming over my head. The threat that if I didn't follow his every command, he’d hurt Nate, maybe even kill him. I lived with the fear that every time I walked out the door, even to follow his commands, I was leaving Nate alone and unprotected. I went to bed every single night fearful that if I slept too soundly, I may wake up next to a beaten and bloody Nate. So I was never safe.” Riley reaches her hand up to cup my face but I pull away, knowing if I have to look at the sadness in her eyes, I'll never be strong enough to continue.

“And even after we were finally free from his grasp, I was never able to ease that tension in my body. I was never able to accept that another adult could be good. Never able to shake the fear I felt whenever one of them called Nate away from me or would come into the room to say goodnight.”

My mind flashes back to one of the first weeks we lived with the Jacksons.

The sun is beaming down on me as I continue mowing the lawn in front of the house. Nate is with Mr. Jackson on the sidewalk just a few feet away. Mr. Jackson is trying to teach him to ride a small blue bicycle but Nates is too scared to ride alone. “Look at me Gabe, I'm doing it!” Nate squeals as he begins peddling as Mr. Jackson runs along behind him.

“Good job, bro!” I yelled back. For once feeling oddly peaceful.

“Mrs. Jackson, can I get a drink please?” I ask, trying my hardest to be good. Show them that I can be good.

“Of course, Gabe,” Mrs. Jackson responds as she flashes me a smile.

I fill a glass full of water from the sink and am just about to take a sip when I hear a loud scream from Nate. Without thinking, I grab one of the big knives from the knife block beside the sink and rush outside. As I do, I see Nate lying on the hard concrete bleeding as Mr. Jackson crouches down in front of him.

“Get the fuck away from him!” I scream as I run towards Mr. Jackson with the knife in my hand. I throw my arms around my brother and hold the knife outstretched in warning towards Mr. Jackson's face. “Touch my brother again and I'll ram this knife so far down your throat you’ll choke on your own fucking blood!” I scream as I desperately try to protect my brother from whatever this monster did in the thirty seconds my back was turned. I knew I shouldn't have left him alone. Stupid, stupid Gabe. You're a failure. Never good enough to be able to keep him safe. My mind taunts.

Mr. Jackson cowers in fear as Mrs. Jackson tries coming to her husband's aid.

“Gabe, give me the knife,” she says but I hear the fear and quivering in her voice.

“Gabe, it's not like that; it's my fault, I…” Nate tries to defend the man who may be minutes from his death. I won’t let Nate take the blame. He always tries to see the good in people.

“No, he hurt you. I know he did. And no one is going to hurt you. Never again. Not while I'm here,” I tell him as I continue to wave the knife in the direction of our foster parents.

Riley's hand on my face breaks me out of my memories. “Where did you go?” she asks as she continues to stroke my face lovingly.

“I was just thinking about my time at the Jacksons.”

“What about it?” she asks, looking confused.

“You asked why I didn't stay and well, I made everyone's life a living hell. I had to leave before they got rid of the both of us, and Nate lost his only hope at a real family.” My heart aches as I think of the way it felt to leave him behind. And all the pain I've felt in those years since. But seeing the happy, loving person he became, I know I made the right choice.

“I'm sure you weren't that bad; they must have known taking in kids with childhood trauma wouldn't be all smooth sailing,” she says as she tries to lighten the mood.

“You think I'm a dick now, I was worse as a kid. I threatened to stab my foster dad within the first few weeks.”

---