The Golden Phoenix

"I don't believe in love. And I certainly don't believe in you."

I couldn't hear dada's voice, his was deep, threatening. Even when he did something wrong he never admitted it, Mama had always said that was wrong.

"No, I'll never forgive you. No! You not going to sweet talk your way out of this again because there will be no tomorrow."

Mama's voice was high and she spoke too fast, like when she went running. Everything seemed wrong and I just wanted them to be happy again, like before. I opened the door just a crack, everything was dark like the night but it was all wrong. Everything was wrong, Dada really must have messed up, I thought.

"You're a pig!"

There was silence for a long time after that; I could hear stomping, crying, and even laughter. Although even at that age, I didn't think mama was really laughing. And then, there was light, bright blazing light that shone through the cracked open door, blinding me. I heard dad scream then. His voice still echoes in my head, the pain and bone crushing scream that carried down the neighborhood.

It was midnight in a small town; it woke the neighbors and the next thing I knew there were police men everywhere. Searching. They wanted to know where dada was. I had no idea, I knew nothing, why were they asking me so many questions that I didn’t understand? The world was spinning and mama was nowhere to be found. Angry men were staring down into my tear stained face and I had nothing to say. I forgot how to speak after I saw the pig standing in our kitchen. Forgot what it was to have a voice.

Mama's voice came in through the open door, carrying its way to me. She was laughing and crying all at the same time talking with one of the police men. Her voice was shakey and so were her hands. She looked hurt, bruised, her eye was swollen and looked like she needed a bandaid. Our eyes locked across the room and I ran, no one even noticed until I reached her. She hugged me until I thought my ribs were going to break, crack and shatter in her arms. But they never did.

"My sweet little bird. Oh, how I love you. Be strong and stay true. Remember that I love you above everything else. And that I'll be waiting for you."

Mama didn't have to say where. I knew. She slipped a gold necklace into my hand as the big man that she was talking to, with an angry look on his face, pushed mama into the flashing car and slammed the door behind her. He banged the top of the car.

Bang, Bang.

And he drove off. I stood there and watched the car disappear. That was the last memory I have of mama.

I was crying again and didn't realize it until another man, a kind, gentle looking man handed me a tissue. Then, he knelt down next to me and wrapped me in a blanket. My body burned with anger, and cooled with sadness. A constant battle within myself. He looked nice, I decided, younger, maybe mama's age. He spoke but I don't know what he said, I just shook my head and he picked me up. He carried me to his car, it was like the other, but this one wasn't flashing. He put me down in the front seat and spoke some more. I just shook my head and stared out the window.

I watched as all the flowers began to bend over with grief, their petals withered and fell to the ground where they seemed to disappear. The grass turned yellow and old, even though mama spent hours watering it. The walls began to sob, the paint falling to the ground. The windows clouded over closing in on themselves, the screws falling out of the drywall. I could see the rugs getting tattered and torn even though no one was walking on them, could see the spiders making their webs over long-forgotten pictures. I watched the house disappear as we drove away. Watched it tumble down on itself, plank by plank that I knew mama herself had put up, cave in on itself as if it didn't have the strength to stand up anymore not without her there.

We made the last turn before mama's house was out of sight, a small red bird uncovering itself from under the house, shaking off the rubble and ash. It flew high into the sky, its long tail following behind it. I opened my hand then and put on my necklace, a golden phoenix rested against my chest, it burned with such scorching heat but never hurt. Mama could never leave me, I thought as the necklace started to cool as I stroked her head. We drove out of the neighborhood just as the sun was coming up. My eyes closed as I got comfortable, the hum of the car the only noise there was.

“I love you mama,” and the world went black.

By Ayla Williams