Page 16 of Carter's #Undoing

Six

Eighteen years ago …

CARTER

I knewsomething was wrong the minute I found Serenity hugging her knees and rocking back and forth in the grass. When she texted me to meet her at her favorite spot by the lake not far from town, I knew something was wrong. Usually, I drove her to this spot whenever she wanted to come, but she’d ridden her bike instead.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting beside her.

“My mom happened. I didn’t hear her come home because I was in the shower, but as soon as I opened the bathroom door, she was standing there, her eyes glazed over and filled with anger.”

“About what?”

Serenity sobbed. “I don’t know, but she doesn’t need a reason. She’s doing cocaine again. I went to ask her if everything was okay, and she slapped me so hard, I fell back into the bathroom door.”

Fuck.I clenched my fist, wanting to slap the dirt beneath my hands, but knowing that it wouldn’t help the situation. She once told me that her mom used to do the stuff back in the eighties when she was a little girl, but had gotten clean when they moved to Cranberry Heights. Unfortunately, it hadn’t lasted long.

Gently touching the bottom of Serenity’s chin, I turned her head toward me. The entire left side of her face was red and swollen.

“Let’s go to the police.”

She shook her head. “No point. Remember last time? They didn’t do anything and it just ended up making things worse.”

I pulled her to me. “Then come to my house. You’re not going home tonight. Hell, I’ll talk to my parents because I don’t want you going back to that place if I can help it.”

Usually, she would argue with me about not wanting to intrude or be a bother, but this time, she just nodded and allowed me to lead her to my car.

Once we were on the road, I put on a CD that I’d made her when I was trying to win a bet and prove that I knew what her favorite songs were. With Serenity, she may talk about certain artists and be at parties dancing to the latest upbeat hit while screaming the lyrics at the top of her longs, but typically, those weren’t the songs that reached her heart.

Serenity loved ballads. She loved the soulful, meaningful music. Little had I known when I’d put the CD together that “Not Gon’ Cry” by Mary J Blige, “Un-Break My Heart” by Toni Braxton, and “All Cried Out” by Allure would be staples in serving the purpose of letting her release her emotions and heartache that her mom had caused when she first began hitting her. I hadn’t known that I would listen to each word in a different way because instead of assuming the songs had been about losing a lover, it made me wonder if the artist had even known how many kids in the world with fucked up parents would sing the song, pleading for God to send them a sign that their parents loved them.

Serenity was the best person I knew. She deserved so much more than what she’d been given. To have a step-father who beat her mom, and a mom who’d turn around and beat her was something I couldn’t even fathom. I hated her parents for what they were doing to her. Hated that they couldn’t see how beautiful she was inside and out, but especially on the inside.

Dating Serenity opened my eyes to a different kind of love, yet it hurt me to know the girl that I loved sometimes questioned why she was brought into this world if those who were supposed to love her unconditionally didn’t. Her birth father wasn’t any better, the once every three-years birthday card almost a cruel reminder for her that had he stayed, things may have been different. I didn’t think so though. He had another now and any man who did nothing more than sign the card and didn’t even bother to mail it in the right month wasn’t worth the time or energy she spent thinking about his worthless ass.

I let her silently cry the entire car ride home. When we got to my house, I didn’t even have to explain the situation before my mom pulled Serenity into her arms told us to go to the basement so she could make us some food. While Serenity was in the shower, I got the food and gave my mom the tightest hug I could because I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life. Cynthia Madden was one of the great ones. The best if you asked me.

After Serenity had changed into some of my gym shorts and T-shirt, I turned on the TV to drown out the noise in her head, but her mind seemed like it was miles away.

“Are you ready to eat?”

“Maybe later.”

I frowned. “What can I do to make it better?”

She shook her head. “Nothing more than what you’re already doing.”

I glanced at her hair, still in a ponytail from when she’d probably put it up during her shower. Climbing up onto the couch, I motioned for her to lean forward. When she did, I slid behind her, then gently pulled her back to me as I removed her ponytail holder and began massaging her head. Serenity carried all her stress in her head, and I knew first-hand how insane her headaches were.

My guess was that she had a massive migraine brewing, but was feeling numb after all the crying. So I let my fingers do the talking that she wasn’t ready to do yet. Minutes later, I felt her body relax into mine, my own body relaxing in response.

By the time she fell asleep, I’d already decided that I wasn’t moving from the position I currently held her in. If being Serenity’s pillow for the rest of the night meant she would get a good night’s sleep, then it was a small price to pay for her peace.

Present…

I hadn’t seen Serenity in over a day, and even though we’d been apart for over a decade, it already felt strange not having her around the house. After I carried her into her bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, I hadn’t returned until I brought her dinner, which I left outside of her door that night.

The next time I went upstairs, the plate on the tray was empty and the bottle of water was gone. Yesterday morning, I did the same thing, only returning to pick up the empty tray. Repeated the same motion for lunch and dinner, asking her several times through the closed door if she was okay, her response beingyeswritten on a napkin and slipped under the door.

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