She looks up from her terrible work, and her eyes are shining with moisture and light. “Oh, Silla… How could you have forgotten?”
As I watch, her eyes change. They widen, then darken—the whites turning pink, then red, then vessels bursting as she stares at me. She is shaking—vibrating and swelling—as her eyes get darker and darker. Her mouth opens, and she mouths one word. Go.
“Mam?”
I am fourteen. Nori is in my arms, half-asleep. I am sneaking out of the house—running away to live with Auntie Cath, a woman we have never met, but have been told about. We are going to La Baume, a magical manor full of love and light. I am rescuing us from this house.
Dad is asleep on the floor. The room smells like vomit and whiskey and beer. There are cans littered all over the room. Mam stirs beside him, raising her head. She sees what I am doing. Sees the bag in my trembling hand.
She looks at me, right in the eye, and there is a profound connection, I think. Then she lowers her head slowly, careful not to wake the beast sleeping beside her, and I realize everything she is saying in that one motion.
It’s okay. You can go. Leave me here with him. I forgive you.
I head for the door, but I forget about the cans and I kick one. It spins over the carpet and hits the wall with a tinny sound, too loud. Far too loud.
Dad groans, moves, raises his head. Sees us.
Nori stirs.
“Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” he says. His voice is loose gravel covered with phlegm.
I freeze, clutching Nori to me tightly. She lifts her head, but I push it back down onto my shoulder. “Go to sleep.”
Dad gets to his feet, revealing his bruised but muscled torso. He was in a bar fight again. There is dried blood on the side of his head and his left eye is swelling shut. Mam scrambles up and puts her hand on his arm.
“Stan,” she says, forcing a gentle smile. “Come back to bed.”
His hand is so fast. It whips out to grab her arm and he squeezes. She cries out and bends as he twists. “Stan!”
“You’re in on this?” His head snaps to me again. “Is it a boy? Running off to be with some goddamn teenage runt?”
I shake my head but it’s useless. He’s still drunk—I can hear it in his words. All I can think is, Nori. Hide Nori. Protect Nori. The last time he got like this, he broke Nori’s arm and collarbone. She spent weeks in agony until finally it is almost set, crooked and useless.
Dad throws Mam away from him and a tiny oof escapes her. Then he rounds on me. I spin and put Nori down, standing in front of her.
“Daddy, please—”
I wince before the blow comes, knowing the look in his eyes. But it doesn’t come. I open my eyes to a sight I have never seen. Mam is on top of him, on his back, hitting his head with her tiny fists, growling and yelling and pulling on his hair. He spins, trying to get her off, this pesky feline creature. Her head whips back and forth, but she doesn’t stop hitting and tearing. She is wild.
“Leave my babies alone!”
But he is stronger.
And he is bigger.
I watch it almost in slow-motion, wanting to stop it. Wanting to change what is coming.
He flips her off, and she crashes onto the floor with a sound louder than should be possible. Her back has shattered one of the beer bottles. Then he is on top of her, his hands around her neck, pressing, squeezing, his eyes wild and manic.
“Stupid bitch!” he growls through his teeth.
I spin and pick up Nori in her blanket again, pressing her head against my shoulder so she can’t see or hear. She is crying softly, shaking in my arms.
Mam writhes under Dad, clutching at his hands and yanking desperately, her legs kicking out uselessly from underneath him. But she is so small and weak, yet brave and strong, too. Her movements grow weaker, fainter, and then her eyes swivel sideways, and meet mine.
I am frozen—body lurching forward, then back to keep Nori safe, then forward to do—what?
I watch the grotesque changes in color. Pink, red, purple shattered with blood vessels. Her whole face is changing.
And then her lips move, and I see it. “Help.”
This woman, who had seemed too weak and small and useless to me as I grew into a young woman, was strong. She had always been strong. The only one capable of holding us together for so long.
And I do nothing.
It seems to take forever, this moment. Something passes between us—infinite and universal. It is: Help me.
I’m sorry.
I forgive you.
Save me.
Don’t forget me.
Remember.
Remember.
And now I do. I was fourteen when my father killed my mother, and I took my little sister and I ran. I remember it all.
I stood.
I saw.
And I did—nothing.
She asked me for help…
and I did nothing.
I’m so sorry.…
I’m so sorry sorry sorry sorry useless coward useless sorry weak murderer killer coward weak sorry I’m sorry so sorry weak useless failure let you die never forgive hate myself useless weak coward stood there let it happen can’t bear this I’m broken I broke you you’re gone and broken and it’s my fault because I left you there I left you there I left—