Page 61 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

“I could,” he went on, unable to resist proving he was different and exceptional. “I could do a lot at five.”

“That isn’t the point and you know it.” She furrowed her brows and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s okay. I know how it looks.” That was the problem wasn’t it, though? The way it looked. He could feel it. As he said it all, it tarnished things, dirtied them. She didn’t understand. Rosie would never be able to grasp how much different he was to all other children his age. He was more advanced than they were. Shit, he had read the Lord of the Rings book by the time he was six. Others his age couldn’t even read Mr Men books.

“Did she go out? That night?”

“Yes. She—“ He pulled away from Rosie, pulling himself away from cubby, too. He couldn’t look at it and see himself and Maria all those years ago and then finish the story. He couldn’t see his mother’s face as he betrayed her now to Rosie … the woman in her house—her room. He faced the window, looking out to the back garden. “I held onto it. I was ruining her night. I don’t even know why or what got into me, but I didn’t want her to go. I got like that sometimes—for no reason, like this panic would get inside me and I couldn’t help it. She had to deal with that. All she wanted to do was go out, and she had to deal with that first.” He could feel it rising in his chest as he spoke, his triggers threatening to choke him.

“She was going on a date and leaving you home alone, William. That wasn’t right.” Rosie was close to him again, her worried eyes watching him.

“She had to smack my arm to get me to let go. I was that determined. She smacked it right on the bone.” He held his arm out to Rosie as if to show her, and demonstrate with his other hand against his arm. “I can still feel the lump where it fractured.”

“She fractured your arm?”

“I was being a shit. I deserved it. If I had let go.”

“Oh God, William. You were just a child,” she said. “Then what? What happened after that?”

William shrugged. “I crumpled to the floor, and she pushed me into the cubby. She didn’t come home that night. I don’t know how long she was away. I just know it was long. I could hold my bladder a long time, but I had to pee, and I waited and waited and couldn’t hold it and she still hadn't come home. Stupid little shit I was, I ended up pissing my own pants.” He could almost hear his mother’s shrieks when she did open the door and the stench of him hit her.

“William … I’m sorry.”

He puffed out his cheeks, letting air out as he turned and leaned himself back against the wall next to the window. “Don’t be sorry, Rosie.”

He knew how it looked. How he had made his mother sound. His stomach ached with the guilt of it, but also some sick twisted part of his mind liked the look of sorrow Rosie had. Like she actually felt sorry for the kid he had been. He didn’t deserve her pity, but seeing it on her face, for even just a fleeting moment, felt like he was getting comfort in his past when he’d desperately needed it.

But … she’d never understand. He knew that too. No one ever sees children as anything but innocent. Like they get a free pass just for being a child. It was laughable. Especially when people had babies baptised to wash away the sins before their lives even begin. How was it that babies could have sins, but children did not? The world was so fucked up. Just like him, standing there, making Rosie think he was the victim.

“I think we’ll get a new table,” William said after a moment, pushing himself from the wall and then grabbing Rosie’s hand. “A big one. Throw this thing out and get something modern.”

“If you want to,” Rosie said, confusion evident in her words.

If only she could see into his mind. She would see then what he had done that one night. What he had done to his mother. Maybe Maria would tell her about that too, and show her the dent in the side of her head. He could still see the mental images of the blood splattering the table from when the bottle hit her. If Rosie were to look close enough, she would see Maria’s blood still there, in the grooves. “I do,” he said, grabbing her and pushing all of those thoughts from his sick mind. “I really do. Now, let’s talk about something else. Something fun.” Ignoring the sting in his arm and the heavy pit in his gut, William pushed Rosie back, and William out. William could get lost. It was Josh’s turn now.

Rosie stopped when her backside hit the edge of the table and he smiled down at her. “We could make some memories on this one first, though, if you like.”

“You’re so crazy sometimes,” Rosie laughed. “We need to get to the store.”

“The store will be open later …” he paused, eyes meeting hers. He tried to smile with it, but even as he forced Josh into place, William battled for the helm in his mind.

“What is it?” Rosie asked, obviously noticing.

“Do you think we should see Maria on the way back? This evening I mean.” He hadn’t seen her since he ran out of the room. It felt like weeks ago, not just yesterday.

“We can if you want to,” Rosie answered, pushing herself back up. “How about we go get what we need and then you decide? If you drive us to the hospital, that’s fine and if we come home instead, that’s good too.”

“You won’t think I am bad?”

“William. I think you are wonderful for thinking about seeing her in the first place.”

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