Page 132 of The Kiss Of Death
I couldn’t look him in the eyes to see how ashamed he was of me.
I compare myself to the other parents who seem to have it all figured out. I’ll never be the fun, popular mom. Sometimes I have to remind myself to hug my son. Hugs were dangerous in my parents’ house, but when I tried to hug Levi, he pushed me away. I feel like I’m failing him. He doesn’t want to play piano anymore, nor bond over puzzles.
But then I met Patrice. He’s older, more mature, and shares the same special interests as Levi. I can’t offer my son a normal childhood, but maybe Patrice can. Maybe he can understand Levi in ways that I can’t.
Note 23:
Diana.
Death.
Diana is gone just like her mother was gone… She left her eight-year-old daughter behind. She never wanted her daughter to grow up without a mother. I don’t have any energy to get out of bed, nor to talk to someone. I wasn’t invited to Diana’s funeral because no one knew we were friends. She was the only person who was kind to me, and now she’s gone.
Her daughter shares the same special interest as I do—she loves the violin too. She has my violin. Diana liked my gift. Her daughter looks just like her. I know what I have to do. I’ll become her music teacher.
Update: I promise you, Diana, I’ll teach your daughter everything I know about music so she can fulfill her promise to you.
Update 2: Dalia left the music room open for Levi, I think she likes him and he likes her music. That gives me hope.
But my fingers are hurting me even more.
Update 3: I can’t play music anymore.
Note 88:
Fail.
Levi.
There’s a void between my son and I. I failed him. They were all right. Patrice thinks Levi should be sent away to boarding school. Levi heard everything, and he punched Patrice. What did I do wrong? Patrice was like a dad to him; he was the normality he needed.
Side note: Levi’s therapist wanted to have a word with me for a session. He believes I’m on the spectrum. Autistic. I looked into it, and it’s like a part of me always knew. But what does it change now? It’s too late.
Note 216:
The end.
My last goodbye.
“I fucking hate you! I wish you never gave birth to me!” Levi lashed out, his voice meddling with the reminders of the shattered stereo on the ground.
It hurt my ears. I had to repair this. I need to repair things. I was crouched on the ground, trying to gather the fragments. This wasn’t supposed to break. All my senses were hurting, shades of a dark purple everywhere, the deafening noise of the refrigerator hitting my ears.
“You’re not even listening to me,” Levi screamed again. “You don’t even care! You can’t even look at me, for fuck’s sake.”
Levi left, running upstairs, the door of his bedroom slamming and making the walls shake. I fell onto the ground, cuddling my knees and rocking my body. I have to fix this. I had to fix our relationship. By playing “Your Song,” everything would go back. I covered my ears with my hands. My useless fingers were shaking, they were good for nothing anymore. I couldn’t repair the instruments. I couldn’t play. I missed music.
“What’s all of this?” Patrice said, a beer in his hand. “What did the kid do again?”
“I have to fix this,” I kept on mumbling.
Patrice seized my arm and forced me to stand. “Take a pill and chill, you’re being overdramatic again. You freak me out when you’re acting like a freak, baby.”
Baby. Baby was a nice word, but why didn’t it make me feel happy or safe? I hadn’t felt safe in a long time. I didn’t like what those pills did to my brain. I felt numb, tired, but then, I was used to being uncomfortable all my life. I’d never found my place in this world. The longer I felt the need to hide who I truly was, the harder the meltdowns.
I cleaned the mess and threw everything into the trash. With slow steps, I walked upstairs. Levi’s door was ajar, a crack by the handle. He rummaged through his electronics scattered in lines on his desk. I should have knocked, but when he removed his sweatshirt, I noticed the marks on his arms in the reflection on the mirror.
Scars. Burns in shapes of holes.
