Chapter 10 - Never Forgive, Never Forget

The metal was cold against her skin and she hit it with more force than she’d felt in months.  The door slammed and Mikayla heard the sharp click of the hanging padlock.  Her mother stood in the doorway with thick gloves on her hands, as she always did when she had intentions of handling her child.

“You stay there and think about what you’ve done.”

Mikayla shrank back in the dark as her mother closed the door.

The room in the basement could hardly be called that.  It was maybe three feet wide and four feet long, devoid of windows, light, or ventilation.  It was a concrete case with just a dog crate in the middle to cage her in.  A thin, ratty, soiled rag served as a blanket and was Mikayla’s only source of comfort.

Her mother put her in there when she was bad, and when she left for work—or simply when she couldn’t stand to look at the girl any longer.

Mikayla’s body ached.  Fresh bruises covered her from head to toe.  She didn’t know what normal skin looked like; mother was always covered from head to toe.  When Mikayla wasn’t shrouded in darkness, her body was a canvas of purples and blues, yellows and greens, and various degrees of black.  Black was caked on dry and scabbed from various cuts and scratches she had acquired. 

Her hair was a matted mess because her mother would never brush it for her—but Mikayla didn’t even know that brushing it would remove the tangles.  She always marvelled at how beautiful her mother’s long black hair was, how smooth and silky it was.  She thought it was naturally like that, and that was a sign of her superiority and power.  Mikayla’s matted mess made her believe that she was the “monster” her mother called her.  She would never be good and beautiful like her mother.

Mother was right to lock her up in the dark.  She was right to beat her, scream at her, and neglect and deny her existence to the world.

“I’m sorry mommy,” she said aloud to herself as she huddled into a ball on the floor of the crate, clutching the smelly rag to herself tightly.

“I’m sorry I killed daddy.”

She didn’t remember him, or what happened.  She only knew that she had killed him, and mommy would never forgive her of that.

Mikayla didn’t know when she woke up, but she was aware of the tears soiling her pillow.  She clutched it tightly to her chest and buried her face into the soft fabric.

Her father had been the one to love her; he named her, bathed her, changed her, and tickled her toes.  He kissed her good night.

And he fell ill because of it.

His love for her looked past the curse that coursed through her tainted veins.  Even when he was bedridden and coughing up blood from his shredded lungs, he cooed to his little angel and kissed her head.

Amá sání said that, like all children do, Mikayla imitated her father. 

She kissed him on the cheek.

How was she to know that daddy would close his eyes and never open them again after that moment?

Mother saw it happen.

Mother would never forgive it, and never forget it.

Mikayla pulled herself up and pushed up the sleeves of the black sweater she wore to bed.  Her cuts had healed and left light pink lines on her arms.

She sighed as she went to her nightstand and pulled the pocketknife out from the drawer.  The digital clock told Mikayla that Anna-Marie and James would wake up in about ten minutes.

She slipped the knife into her pocket and went to he bathroom across the hall.

Etched into her skin, she recorded the times she thought about her mother, father, and grandmother.  Every time her memories plagued her, or her mother’s words haunted her, she carved a line in her skin as a reminder of what she had done.

No blood was shed when they died.

She bled for them.

Drop by drop, they slipped from the cracks in her skin and disappeared into the abyss of the drain.  Bleeding took the pain away.  Bleeding reminded her of the monster she was and how her existence was a threat to others.

She could never forget, never forgive, and never allow others to enter her world.

She quickly wrapped her arm up in gauze, slipped silently out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.  Grabbing some fruit, she hurried out of the house.

There wasn’t sufficient time for her to go to her treasure in the desert, so she opted to explore the city—and all of its closest escape routes.

X

School that day settled into a normal routine that she was more used to—alienation from the other students, including that nosy boy, Isaac.

She caught him glancing at her, but he didn’t step foot toward her, or utter a word.

That’s more like it, she thought to herself as the day came to an end and no one bothered her—about time too.

The next day followed in the same manner, and then it was the weekend.

Mikayla took her bike out for a ride around the town, checking out the city limits and the desert landscape that surrounded it.  The temperature dropped that weekend, but was still above fifty in the morning and evening hours.

She avoided the Wrights and everyone else she came into contact with around the city.  The freedom of the open air on the road sated her senses with pleasure—until she saw the big black raven sitting on a gnarled branch of an old tree at a traffic light.  Another one appeared a few blocks up, watching her with its beady black eyes.

Evening was already quickly approaching, and she took these messengers as a sign to return to the Wrights’ house.

The weekend drew to a close.  Silence filled the house as Mikayla retired to her room, refusing to even come out for dinner.

The silence and isolation made living at the Wrights’ just a little more bearable.  The children left her alone, and the parents stopped their nagging.  An unsettling atmosphere filled the house, and Anna-Marie and James didn’t know what to do to fix it.  They didn’t know, of course, that Mikayla was planning on leaving soon.  Even they were unsure about the permanence of Mikayla’s living with them as a member of the family.  Mikayla heard their soft murmurs of discussion in the evening of what to do about her and what was best for the family.  Even they were concluding that things weren’t working out and Mikayla couldn’t stay.

She pretended not to know about their talks, and pretended not to care about anything.  She was already devising her plan to leave the system rather than to be reassigned to another foster family.  The repetitive cycle needed to end.

X

With the second weekend since Mikayla’s arrival already gone, Anna-Marie was beginning to lose patience.

“That girl has been living under our roof for over a week, and she thinks she can do whatever she damn well pleases?” she said heatedly to her husband after she spat toothpaste into the sink. 

Getting ready for bed had never become as tense as it had been the last few nights for James.  Tomorrow would be another Monday morning of pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary.

James held up his hands in an attempt to hush her.  “Ann, watch your language, and not so loud.”

She waved her toothbrush at him in their master ensuite.  “What?  I’ve had it up to here with her and her unruly behaviour!”

He sighed as he reached for her arm and lowered it.  He looked into her eyes tenderly.  He hated seeing her upset like this.  He knew that she was having a hard time coping with the teen.  She always had been a bit of a controlling, obsessive-compulsive person, but she was a loving woman and doting mother, so he never had to worry about her.  “Please, calm down Ann.”

Anna-Marie looked away and stared down at the porcelain bowl of the vanity.  She inhaled and exhaled loudly.  She looked up into the mirror at James’ reflection.  “I’m scared, James.”

She put her toothbrush away and turned the faucet on to splash some water on her face.

He just stood in the doorway, watching her.  “About what?”

She stood over the sink, and let the water droplets fall from her face. 

“Everything.  She warned me a few days ago.  I was right about her, James.  I was right about her from the very beginning.  She’s the spawn of Satan, or a demon of some sort, I can feel it.”

He winced at her words as he reached over and handed her a towel.  “Isn’t that a little…”

“I’m not crazy, James!” she shot back with a glare.

She snatched the towel from his hands and pressed it to her face.

“Well, I just mean… she hasn’t done anything that bad.  Aren’t you being a bit… harsh?” he asked.

She shot him a hard look.  “She’s the one that said I had every right to question her.  Don’t tell me that I’m being too harsh—clearly she is more trouble than she’s worth.  For the sake of our children—she has to go!”

James scratched the back of his head.  He still had not told Anna-Marie about running into Mikayla crying, and it still did not seem right to reveal that experience to his wife.  It seemed too private. 

He hesitated, but finally said, “Let me talk to her, okay?”

She threw him a warred look before hanging the towel on the rack.  “What makes you think anything will change if you talk to her?”

He knew she was right, and he didn’t know what he would say to Mikayla, but he just wanted to take some of the pressure off his wife’s shoulders.  So he shrugged, trying to look indifferent, and said, “Maybe she’ll just respond better to a man?  For all we know, she may have had bad experiences with women trying to tell her what to do.  We know she’s rebellious, so maybe it’s just because you’re a woman?”

She crossed her arms and he moved back to let her step out of the bathroom.  “That sounds ridiculous,” she said as she walked towards their bed.  “I think she has issues that go beyond sex, but if you want to talk to her, then fine.  You try getting through to her.  Be my guest.”

He stepped up behind her and rubbed her arms.  “It’ll be okay.  Just give it some time.”

X

Monday ended on a dark and potentially rainy note.  Mikayla wanted to go out to the desert, but knew better than to risk it.  The clouds rolling in didn’t look friendly and might crack open at any moment.  She sighed, with her helmet in hand, and hurried out of the school to her motorcycle.

She found herself roaring to a stop in front of the junior high school near the Wrights’ house.  The schoolyard was silent, except for the rumble of thunder in the distance.

Come on, come on, she thought, drumming her fingers on the handlebars.

She didn’t know why she was there.  Something told her to be there.  She knew better than to question her instincts, but why should she feel compelled to go to Aiden’s school and give him a ride home?  It couldn’t be out of the goodness of her heart.  That was pure rubbish.

Finally, after ten minutes and the clouds turning an even darker gray with hints of brown in the distance, the bell rang and the kids started flooding out.

Mikayla dismounted and waited at the front, in a no-parking zone, with her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned lazily against her bike.  Someone from the school tried to get her to move, but cowered away when she growled, “Make me.”

That person must have alerted a number of staff members because they gathered at the front entrance and watched her apprehensively.  Did they really think she had come here to attack children, or something?  Geez, people were paranoid.

A few minutes later, she saw Aiden emerge, the bullies hot on his heels, but doing nothing to gather attention from the adults.  As soon as they saw her though, they stopped dead in their tracks and stared at her.  Aiden’s jaw dropped as well, but he recovered himself quickly and hurried to her side.  The bullies didn’t follow this time.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What does it look like?”

A clap of thunder caused him to jump and a number of other kids cried out in fear.

“Come on, let’s go before it starts to pour,” she said as she turned and got on the motorcycle.  She looked back at his puzzled face as he remained staring at her.  “Or would you rather walk?”

“No, no, I’ll come,” he replied hastily.

He climbed onto the bike behind her.  She didn’t have a helmet for him, but they were only a few blocks from his house.  She could have given him hers, but she was the one driving into the wind while he’d be protected behind her.

Whatever, it’s just for a few minutes.

She told him to hold on tight to her as she revved the engine, purely for the sake of looking badass.  Then she peeled out of the schoolyard and down the street ten miles faster than the speed limit allowed.  She felt Aiden tighten his hold around her waist, but she heard a faint exclamation of excitement from his lips.  She couldn’t help but grin a little.

They tore down the street and pulled into their driveway as the skies cracked open and the rain started coming down.

Aiden got off first and ran to the side door to unlock it and open the garage so Mikayla could put her bike inside.  Two seconds later, the rain turned into a fierce downpour as lightning illuminated the sky and thunder roared throughout.

Aiden was ecstatic.

“That was so awesome!  Did you see the look on those guys’ faces?  It was priceless!”

She took her helmet off and held it under her arm.  She avoided eye contact and instead stared out the open garage door to the torrential rain.

“You’re welcome,” she said gruffly.

He looked unfazed by her rough demeanor.  He went over to the bike and touched the handlebars.  “So cool… Can you pick me up from school from now on?”

She tried not to flinch, but if she did, he didn’t see it.  He was too preoccupied by the motorcycle.

Crap, what have I gotten myself into now?

She turned and flicked the switch to close the garage door before entering the house.

“Mikay?” he called after her.

“We’ll see,” she yelled over her shoulder.

She went up to her room, feeling a headache coming on from the storm surging outside.

Arizona didn’t see a lot of rain, but when it did, it was either a sprinkle or a full-blown storm that would rage for a few minutes before subsiding into nothing but a lightning show extending for another half hour or more.  Thunderstorms had the ability to give Mikayla migraines.  They were marvelling to watch, but the electricity in the air was too much for her to handle.

She occupied herself with schoolwork and didn’t hear Gracie come home off the school bus.  Once both Anna-Marie and James were home, James called up to her to come downstairs for a minute.  She groaned, but trudged downstairs away.

James smiled at her as everyone was putting their shoes on in the doorway to the garage.  “We’re going out to dinner Mikay, and you’re welcome to join us,” James said.

Mikayla noticed that Anna-Marie didn’t look particularly over-joyed, but Mikayla shrugged it off.

Truth be told, she would have loved to go out and do something for a change, but it was already starting to get dark out.  And she never went outside after darkness fell.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Anna-Marie didn’t even try to conceal her relief as she coaxed a quiet Gracie out the door.  “Well then, let’s go, James.  I’m hungry.”

Mikayla went up to her room and looked out the window to watch them leave.  The sun was already setting, the suburbs infused in an orange glow, and the shadows stretching toward the east.

To say that she was anxious was an understatement.  She knew she was being watched outside, but would the Wrights be safe after dark?  Would whatever that was out there try and go after them?

What if it did?  What if it hurt them?  It would be on her conscious to know that they got hurt because of her.

Just stop thinking!

Jamming her earbuds into her ears, she cranked up the volume on her music player.  She turned to the artwork that needed her attention.

An hour later, a loud noise from outside cut though the guitar solo she had been listening to.  Jumping in her seat, she tore the earbuds from her ears.  She didn’t know what the noise was exactly, but it sounded like a metal trashcan falling over.  Tomorrow wasn’t garbage day.  Moreover, the window’s curtains weren’t drawn, and she saw the darkness outside.

Shit!

Rushing to the window, she pulled the curtains closed without looking out into the darkness.  She did, however, glimpse the flash of headlights from an approaching car.

She wondered if it was the Wrights coming back.  She decided to go downstairs and find out, rather than risk looking out the window.

Quietly, she crept down the stairs to the door that led to the garage.  She waited and when she heard the garage door open, she sighed with relief.  They were home.

She heard the car doors open and slam closed.  Muffled happy voices echoed in the enclosed space beyond.

Mikayla stepped back.  This was their family time.  And she had no place in it.

She slunk back upstairs.  She had made sure that they came home safe and sound; that was all that mattered.