Mommy

Mommy
By Barb Lowry


She looked around the sterile room wondering how she had ended up here. The only furniture was the hard wooden chair she sat on, a long table, and another chair the same as hers. Above the table, hanging from the ceiling was a single light bulb, glaring in her eyes. She knew she’d be alone for only a few more minutes before they came in to take her statement and being alone was something she was most comfortable with. So many things led up to her being here now and her thoughts took her back to that time as a child, despite all efforts to the contrary. She began to softly cry as the too-real visions appeared in her mind of that night so many years ago.

Seven years old was young, but old enough to know the signs. Arriving home from school that day, she wandered through the house in search of Mommy. But Mommy was no where to be found. Like so many other days, she flicked on the television. After a time, she found herself hungry and retrieved a box of Cheerios from the cupboard. She had to eat them from the box because the only dishes in the apartment had become permanent fixtures in the sink. She knew to look in the cereal box before putting her hand inside. A few times she had brought out things that were not Cheerios, and they frightened her even more than not finding Mommy at home.

She left the television running. She didn’t understand most of what the people were saying, they were just voices talking to her and she needed those voices desperately. After a while, she pulled a book from the wall-case and began to read. Mommy had told her that the books she read were for much older children, but she loved the stories and she read them over and over. There were stories of lands far away like Africa and India. They sounded so exciting and beautiful, so much better than being all by herself in an apartment. She would often close her eyes and imagine she was floating on a magic carpet to India.

As darkness set in, she felt very tired so she changed into her jammies and crawled into her bed, snuggled up with her tattered teddy bear and waiting for Mommy to come home. She knew the routine. It was always the same.

Just as she was starting to fall asleep, she heard the front door burst open and crash against the wall behind it. Mommy and her friend came in laughing and talking loudly. Like usual, they went right to Mommy’s room and the funny sounds began. She knew to crawl under the bed then. It wouldn’t be long.

As if on cue, the friend began shouting at Mommy. Mommy shouted back. They continued shouting for a few minutes. Then she heard Mummy scream, “NO!” There was a loud noise and then sounds of the fight ended abruptly. She heard Mommy’s door open and she listened to the sound of footsteps nearing her room but they continued on and then she heard the front door slam, followed by silence. She was afraid that Mommy’s friend would come back to get her like that one friend of Mommy’s did and do those awful things to her, so she just stayed under the bed. Sometime later she fell asleep, hugging her teddy close.

When she woke the next morning, the house was silent. Why wasn’t Mommy taking her shower or making her breakfast? She crawled out from under her bed and still holding her teddy close, tiptoed to Mommy’s room and found her still asleep. It seemed a funny way for Mommy to sleep, lying sideways on the bed. She called for Mommy to wake up. She nudged her and then she shook her hand. Why wouldn’t Mommy wake up? She sat down on the floor still hanging onto Mommy’s hand and began to cry. Why was Mommy’s hand so cold?

Little did she know that the events of that night would take her life on a bizarre path that would end up with her sitting in this silent, dark room looking in a mirror on the wall. But she knew it was not just a mirror. They were watching her.