I’m unsure if Dad’s actions are more surprising to Mom or me as her eyes balloon before she staggers back. Her body drops like a ton of bricks, hitting the floor unceremoniously as she immediately grabs her chest.
“Y-you shot me,” Mom says.
For countless seconds, I’m frozen in place with my eyes darting from Mom to Dad, who’s now ranting incoherently. My brain and feet sync simultaneously, causing me to race over and drop beside Mom. A deep red circle saturates Mom’s once-pink blouse as the sight before me feels like I’m in a dream. Mom’s left hand is clutching her chest tightly, where the hole seems to be enlarging by the second. My eyes are keenly on my shero as moisture begins blurring my vision.
“Mom,” I cry.
“I keep telling you not to fucking play with me, Camille. You just don’t know how to sit the fuck down and shut up sometimes.” Dad’s hard voice reminds me of his presence in the room as I momentarily shift my focus from Mom to look behind me.
Dad is pacing the floor with the smoking gun in his hand while his lips move without giving me the ability to understand what he’s saying. He’s not paying attention to Mom’s inability to respond, as his eyes are elsewhere. Gasping from Mom has my eyes returning to her as tears slip from the corners of her eyes. In her orbs, I see sadness, regret, and fear as blood slides from her mouth like drool. A cold shiver runs down my spine as a helpless feeling settles within my bones, causing moisture to sprout from my eyes.
“G-g-get h-help,” Mom says weakly, but I’m frozen in place as my hand covers hers, where her brown skin becomes red from the blood oozing like a faucet.
“Aye. Y’all better send a squad for my old lady and the police too. Yeah. The police because I shot her. Yes, I’m still here. Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna run like some pussy. I fucking shot her. Mhm. I told her ass not to try me. M—” Dad’s voice is as calm as if he’s discussing the weather, causing a tremble to invade my body.
Taking my eyes off Mom, I see a phone up to Dad’s ear as he continues pacing the floor. His face is a mask of lines and a deep frown, yet his countenance has no remorse. The sight of him still clutching his weapon as if it were a part of his body is equally disturbing and causing my mind to spiral. Trembles under my hand again shift my focus back to Mom, who gives me a faint smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I-mm-I love you, K—” Mom’s words cut off before she can finish saying my full name as her body becomes completely still.
“Mom. Mom.” Shaking her still body, I struggle to see her, as rapid tears make it impossible to see clearly.
At this moment, I know my life will never be the same again. A chill fills not only the air around me but also my body. My chest beats wildly as I frantically wipe away the tears to see Mom’s dead eyes peering into me. The light and sheen from this morning are no longer present as I fight against the wail, begging for permission to exit my throat. Falling forward, I lay on Mom’s body, releasing the gut-wrenching wail I’m unable to contain any longer.
“Please come back, Mom. Please. I’ll clean my room like you asked. I’ll go get help. Please. Please. Mom.” My voice is muffled as I try to hug Mom’s unmoving body while pleading for her to return to me.
“Get your ass up, boy. She gone and damn sure ain’t coming back no matter how much you beg. I told Camille to stop babying your little ass so much.” Dad yanks me off the floor with enough force to pull my arm outta the socket and shift Mom’s body.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I stare at him with an equally raging bull stance while contemplating how I can exact revenge for Mom.
“Oh. You think you can handle me, little nigga. Your momma ain’t here to keep me from knocking you on your ass.” The hatred in Dad’s eyes as if I was a stranger and not the child he helped to create had a chill going down my spine.
“Put down your weapon!” someone shouts, causing me to look toward the entrance to see two police officers with their guns drawn.
?
When Jesus is my portion
A constant friend is He
?
My body is tense and unmoving as I stare at the lifeless form of Mom’s body in the box before me. The past week has been a whirlwind as Dad killed my shero before turning the gun on himself, and I was uprooted from the only place I knew as home. With Mom being an only child and her parents refusing to take me, I’ve been forced to live with Dad’s mom, Grandma Patton. Instead of Grandma Patton attending Mom’s funeral with me to give me the comfort I needed, she dropped me offin front of the church and told me to call her when it was over. Mom’s parents haven’t said a word to me, and they are sitting on the opposite end of the first pew at this church, which feels extremely cold and lifeless. They’re making me feel as if I’m the person responsible for the death of their child when I’m a child myself. I feel like I have a contagious disease with how distant my grandparents are from me.
Mom, why did you leave me?
Mom’s face is puffy and ashy with a heavy coating of makeup I’ve never seen her wear before today. If it weren’t for the braids she wore, I wouldn’t believe the woman in the box is my mother, because I don’t recognize much else. My once vibrant, fun, and maker of amazing heart-shaped pancakes whose love for me outweighed the crap she often dealt with inside our home can’t possibly be this still woman.
?
His eye is on the sparrow.
And I know He watches over me.
?
Had He been watching me, I wouldn’t be watching Mom like this. Please shut up, lady.
My mind begins wandering as I tune out the woman singing whatever song this is. My heart is cold as ice on an Alaskan mountain as I fidget with my fingers. My clothes are wrinkled, and my hair is overgrown because no one cares about my presentation like Mom did. My horror increased when Dad, like the coward he was, pulled the trigger a third time, ending his miserable life. While Mom’s funeral is in full swing, I thankfullywon’t have to go through this again because Grandma Patton had instructed the people to burn Dad to jumpstart his entrance into Hell. Those were the exact words I heard her tell the person who called her about what to do with Dad’s body. Dad’s hell on Earth created a backlash that fell heavily on me, and I’m still alive to deal with his monstrosity and inability to control his temper.