\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/545806-Sick-at-Heart-Dead-at-Soul
Item Icon
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Drama · #545806
A teen mother gets switched to a new foster home.
Home Sweet Goddamn Home: Cyan:

I'm the scum of the earth. The rock bottom. The thing your mother warned you to stay away from. What mothers snatch their kids away from. And I'm being adopted... again.

My mom and I split up after she got caught for hooking. I never want to see her again. She went to jail and I took off. I haven't told anyone her name. I call myself Cyan. People can think its as fucked up as they want but that's how I live. I use Xavier as my last name. I think it looks hilarious when I write my name Cyan X.

This new home looks the same as the others. I have a room to myself, a new brother and a sister and my baby has a crib. Yeah, I'm a teen mom and even if I'm not proud of it, at least I'm not ashamed. Zylle's my daughter. Her proper name is Valorie Vivien but I call her Zyllie. She's all I have that's mine.

My new brother is Sean and my sister's Tasha. Tasha's preppy and giggly. Her mother, Nia, raised her eyes at my blue hair and punk clothes. Or maybe it was my scowl. I don't care. I'll only be here until they decide they can't cope with a teen mom. At least my last "parents" kept me until Zyllie was old enough that I can go back to school. Even if they always called her Valorie.

Tomorrow school starts. Nia suggested I use some blonde or brown hairdye. I asked her if she'd prefer purple. I've decided I don't like blue so much anymore. I want bright red. Not pink though.

Bright red looks good. I ignore Nia's raised eyebrows and Tasha's horror. I do note that Sean doesn't seem to care. He is their real son and he's athletic, and smart, according to his boastful mother. She is such a bragger and she has more rolls than a pastry truck. He's my age, and in my grade, she tells me. I concentrate on Zylle, and ignore my aching breasts. I started her on formula not too long after she was born. I had to keep up school.

Who will look after Zylle? I ask. Nia looks uncomfortable. Well it's been a while, she says, but I reckon we'll get a long just fine. I nod and hold my baby girl closer. Looking at my plate I see overcooked sausage and limp raw bacon. I wonder if I could say I am vegitarian. I decide not to bother lying. I take Zylle off to the bathroom and rock her gently. She isn't sleepy. She plays with my heavy metal ball necklace. I take her little chubby hand and kiss it. Then I look at myself in the mirror.

Red looks good. I wear a fishnet shirt and a black bra. Always put your best foot forward. I strap spikes around my wrists and cover my eyes with black eyeshadow. I then pick Zyllie up again and cart her off to my room for a diaper change and Shithead her bear. I call him Shithead because the day Katherine (my last "mom") gave Zyllie the bear she shitted right on his head. She loves him though. I sigh and bounce her in the air. She laughs and it makes me smile. I love her darling little laugh. Suddenly I sense that I am being watched. I turn to the open doorway and see Sean leaning there, a backpack slung casually over his shoulder. He nods to me, and keeps eye contact even though I scowl viciously. Impressive.

Glaring: Sean

Today I took Cyan to school. I don't think she fits in alright. The thing is that while I'd normally just dismiss her as a fucked up bitch, she isn't completely hostile. I saw her with her baby, Valorie, and she looked... I dunno. It was maturnal but also really young and beautiful. Like the picture of Madonna above the stairs, the one Mom told me would keep me safe from everything. Even with red hair and that H-O-T fishnet shirt.

Now we're in the car together. Her frame's locked but I can tell by the way that her head twitches she's already missing that baby of hers.

Once the house is out of sight she fixes her gaze straight ahead. It was weird because I could tell she was trying to figure me out. "Where did you get the name Cyan, Cyan?" I asked, just for conversation.

"I got it for myself. Same as everything else in this world."

"And that baby too?"

"I'm not ashamed of it!"

"Never said you were, girl. You seem to love her a lot."

Cyan ignored that remark and stared out the window. I concentrated on driving. I'm a pretty careful driver in general but I will admit that I sped a little. I'm not sure why either. She didn't seem to mind.

When we got to school it didn't make a great impression on Cyan. She almost shranks into the seat. I put a hand out to her. She pulled away from me, glaring. I shot a glance back at her and then got out of the car. She stayed where she was. I got my bag and hers out of the trunk. Then I waited for a few minutes before walking around to her side of the car and opening the door for her. I was careful not to touch her and instead backed a few paces away offering her back pack calmly, as one might lure a wild, hurt animal from its lair.

This did not escape Cyan's notice. The punkie strode out of the car, snatched the bag and walked away without looking back. I sighed and followed her into the school. She halted only for a second inside the double doors before choosing left over right.

"Cyan!" She turned, glaring at me hostily. I sighed, yet again, and raised my eyebrows amicably. "You want the office." I let a grin escape me. "It's um... that way." I pointed over my shoulder, to the right.

She scowled harder and started to storm off in the opposite direction. I grabbed her hand. She pulled it away. I sighed and put my hand on her hand again. "You might get lost... again" I explained, and recieved only a glare for my pains.

I took Cyan with me to my next class. It was French. "Cyan? Just tell me if you don't understand, ok."

She looked at me scathingly. The teacher came in and I stood up. Monsieur Jacobs was surprised (I try not to draw attention to myself normally), and shocked at Cyan. He's about a hundred and a bachelor. I think she's the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

"M. Jacobs? Voici Cyan Xavier, ma nouvelle soeur"

"Oui? Parlez vous francais, madamoiselle?" I don't suppose it helps that his eyes are on level with her breasts.

"Bien sur. Je parlais francais pour dix ans. Quand j'etait jeune la grandmere d'une famille avec qui j'ai habite parlait seulement francais." My jaw dropped at her fluency. She flashed me a wicked smile. M. Jacobs continued to engage her in conversation which she answered easily.

On the way to our next class I pulled her aside. "Why didn't you tell me you spoke French rather than let me make an idiot of myself."

"Watching you make an idiot of yourself was amusing." She shook her head defiantly. "Now where do we go?"

"Look, Cyan. I'm the only person in this grade you know. It might be a good idea for you to drop the shitty face and try being nice, at least to me."

"Look, buddy. I don't need you and I don't need the rest of your fucking Brady Bunch family. I'm here until my eighteenth birthday, or until you kick me out, whichever comes first."

"So when you turn eighteen you'll just run away?"

"Rocket science, huh?"

"And that baby of yours?"

"Zyllie's my buisness not yours. So stay the hell out of it." She ducked away from me. "Are you going to tell me where I'm going or what?"

"This way." I lead her away.

At football practice I saw Cyan sitting on the bleachers. I smiled in spite of myself. She hadn't run away on me. My daydream cost me as I got tackled. Brad yanked me back up. "What the fuck's up with you, man?"

"Nothing, Brad. Sorry." Brad was our 250 pound, six foot captain.

"Watching that bitch?" He cocked his head towards Cyan. "Hot, huh?"

"She's not bad." I couldn't believe I was admitting that about my own sister. Is that incest? Or does it not count if she's adopted?

"See what she's wearing?"

"Yeah I did."

"What a whore."

"Maybe that's her way of expressing herself." I found myself defending her, almost getting angry at Brad's crude assessment of her.

"Maybe that's her way of asking for some. I heard she delivers as well. Hands it out."

"Where'd you hear that?" I was definately angry now, although my better judgement told me that I shouldn't bother. Cyan had made it clear she wanted to take care of herself.

"Around, brother. I heard she even got knocked up."

"So what if she did?"

"Then she just might get knocked up again. Soon." Brad smiled at her.

"Look. Give the girl a break. She's new. She's just been adopted. She's a teen mom and she's proud as hell. Maybe you should cut her some slack and stay the hell away from her with your limp dick and limper brains."

"What did you say to me, asshole?"

I was angry and beyond caring. "You heard me, fucker." He tackled me. My helmet came off. I heard him talking to me between punches. "This what you want? You want this for some ho? All this for some slut?" I hit back until Coach and some other guys pulled him off me.


Cyan: Relationship

Sean's got a black eye. From his parents reaction this is a new thing. That's so pathetic I could throw up. But I ignore them. I have Zyllie in a carry sling around my neck and her little fist is grabbing my shirt as I puzzle out Algebra 2. I only just met my teacher and I know he's a dick.

I can see Sean watching me. I glare back at him but he just smiles as if that glare reassured him or something. I grab my textbook and move into my room even though the light is crap. I get pretty good grades and I work hard but tonight I can't concentrate. I draw on my notebook. I just finished Lord of the Rings before I came here. Odd for a punk, but fuck that, I'm me.

I hear a knock on my door and contemplate turning around. Nahh. To much work for anyone in this house. It's Tasha in her Baby Gap shirt. "Cyan?"

"Tasha?" I mimic her voice, not really caring if it's cruel. She does recoil. Then she pulls herself together in an amazingly preppy way: standing taller, fidgeting her feet inside her heeled "indoor" sandals, and flipping her hair.

"Cyan, there's someone on the phone for you."

"Pull the other one."

"There is. He won't give his name." She holds out her pretty pink cordless phone. I debate whether to take something so disgustingly fluffy (no joke--there is pink faux fur on the back embroidered with the word "Princess." Curiosity wins and I take the phone.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Hey babe." My heart drops and I hang up the phone. I know that voice. I cluch Zyllie closer and kiss her head, swearing softly. Cursing that bastard. Cursing whoever told him where I am.

"Cyan? That was so rude!" Tasha objects. I sneer and give her the finger. She stomps off with her furry phone and stupid sandals. I couldn't give a shit. "MOM!" Tasha shrieks at the top of her lungs a half minute later. "Can Andie come over tomorrow?"

My breath comes out in a gasp. I was scared she was going to tell her mom about the phone call.

"What was that about?" I whirl around this time. Sean lounges in my door, black eye shaded by his blond hair.

"Fuck off! Can't I get any privacy to do my homework in?" I swivel away from him, (yes I do have an obsession with swivel chairs. Last night I spent about an hour spinning on this one with Zyllie gurgling in my arms.

"Who was on the phone?"

"None of your goddamn buisness."

"Fine." He says.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask after he's stood in the doorway for a minute.

"Why? Planning on doing something other than drawing on your notebook?"

"None of your goddamn buisness." I get up and slam the door in his face.


Baby Care: Sean

Ugh, what the hell is that? I push myself up from the pillow and reach out to turn on the lamp. My alarm clock read 2:38 am. My god!

That baby of Cyan's is screaming like crazy. I sit up and wait for Cyan to get up. The crying doesn't stop and it is screaming. Then my groggy mind wakes up. I run into Tasha's room.

"Tash, get up." She's sitting in bed, reading.

"Why?"

"That's Cyan crying. Go find out what's wrong."

"I don't care what's wrong with that bitch. I'm not getting up."

"She's crying." Tasha's gone back to her book. I run to Cyan's door and then pause. She won't take kindly to me busting into her room. Then the door flies open. It's Cyan. She stares at me for a blank second. "What is it?"

"Zyllie. She's not breathing."

Time stopped at that moment. I looked at the baby for a second, very red in the face, and then I grab Cyan's hand and yank her downstairs. We both run into the car and we arrive at the hospital sometime. It's all just a blur.

I remember Cyan yelling at the doctor, saying how it happened, and I remember the doctor's face: anxious and then relieved. Zyllie was back.

Cyan cries in a pathetic plastic chair. She looks sort of happy and sort of not... almost hysterical. I go over to sit with her, shaking my head to try and clear it. Carefully I slip an arm around her, remembering how she reacted when I offered her my hand. To my surprise she leans into me and sobs on my chest. I nestle my head in her hair and smile. She's been borrowing my sister's Herbal Essences Shampoo, and it doesn't quite suit her. It does make a funny combination.

My parents aren't thrilled but the doctor just says it was a mechanical trip up, just a growing up thing and that it shouldn't happen again. Cyan is pale and shaking... not shaking, shivering! My father carefully wraps his jacket around her. She is holding Zyllie so close it looks like she'll never let go. Suddenly I have some crazy idea that it would be amazing if she was holding me... that's crazy!


Confessions: Cyan

I sit on my bed holding my baby in my arms and thanking God that she's alive. Even she has to live without a father, even if I never finish school because of her, even if he did... Silent tears fall down my cheeks and I'm ready to break in half. I don't ever ever want to let her go.

"I brought you some food." Sean stands in my doorway. I look up startled and then have to smile.

"Hey." He smiles back as if he's afraid I'll bite him. I guess I have been pretty shitty to him and he probably should be afraid of me--I am a scary person and I can take pride in that. He holds out the plate, and I reach out to take it from him. It's chocolate in french baguette. I smile, looking at him like he's crazy.

"It's one of my favorite snacks, a homemade pain au chocolat."

"Nana, the gamma of one of the families I've lived with, used to make them for me." I smile and taste one, holding Zyllie with one arm. Sean stands uncomfortably. "D'you want to share?"

"Sure." He pulls over my swivel chair and takes one sandwich. "So, are you ever going to let her go?"

"Never." I smile. It's about five in the morning and all the scare and tiredness has worn away my cynicism.

He smiles. "I can see why. She's adorable."

"Yeah, she is." I kiss Zyllie's sweet little hair.

"How old is she now?" He strokes a curl with a tentative finger. I don't think he's touched her since I've been here.

"She's about a year and a half." He nods. "They're sweet at this age, not too possessive yet, and old enough to amuse themselves."

"You must have loved him a lot." Sean says this so quietly that I can hardly hear him.

"Hmmm?"

"The guy. Val- I mean Zylle's father." For some reason the guy doesn't have the balls to look up. What, hasn't his mommy told him about casual sex... but she'd hardly know would she?

"Not really." I say bluntly. "I love Zylle. And I wouldn't abort. Never." He raises his eyebrows. "I wouldn't. I'm pro-choice and all, but my choice is to keep the baby. I couldn't live with myself if I killed a child and well... look what I got in return!" I smile and kiss her sweet head.

"But you didn't love him?"

"No. I don't love him. I never loved him." My tone is so final that he seems to accept that as the end of the conversation. We move onto more innocent subjects.

In the morning I wake up slightly. It's a Thursday, I should go to school... oh fuck it. I glance over and I see Sean, asleep on my swivel chair. I guess he's not going to school either. For some reason this makes me smile. I snuggle back down and go back to sleep.


Punkie Sister?: Sean

Cyan's weird. She blows hot and cold. Some days she'll talk to me and let me hold Zylle and others she curses and yells. I can cope though, I'm more worried about her. Needless to say, Cyan does not fit in at school. She's too bitchy and too cynical. Some of the girls admire her, and all of the guys admire her... her body that is.

I keep finding her in the weirdest places. Today when I walk out into the garden I am pelted with an apple. Rubbing my head I look up. I can't see anything through the dense leaves but I can hear a wicked laugh. "Cyan!"

"Yes, Sean?" She sounds innocent. She ducks down from the tree and jumps to the ground. One hand shoots out for balance and the other is clasped around Zyllie. "Don't scold, she likes it up there." I smile and offer her a hand. She shakes her head and sits under the tree. I sit with her.

"You got another call." I offer her the phone. She takes it, hums for a second, and then hangs up with no change of expression.

"Who is it that keeps calling?"

"No one."

"Someone. Who? Old boyfriend?" She coos to Zyllie. Then I have a sudden idea. "Her father?"

"What?" She jumps up and stares at me wildly. "What did you say?" She runs into the house before I can answer.

I press 9-*-69. The phone rings and then... "Yo."

"Who is that?"

"Fuck off, mate. You called." His accent is European, Irish maybe?

"You called here actually. You called Cyan Xavier?"

"So what if I did, mate? That tart's gonna talk to me sometime."

"Stop calling asshole!" I hang up. I can imagine him laughing. No wonder Cyan won't talk to him. I wouldn't want to either. He doesn't stop calling though. He still wants to talk to her.



Happy Birthday: Cyan.

"Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Cyan, happy birthday to you." I can't believe it. I'm blushing! But it is all very cute, a cake with the Good Charlotte logo on it, and plenty of ice-cream. Nia even made me my favorite food: Yorkshire Pudding. I'd never had them before I came here but yes, I've found something that I really love.

Tasha gives me a twenty dollar gift certificate to Borders' Bookshop: pretty kind for her. I get a few different things from everyone else but from Sean I get a really cool chain necklace, its very heavy but he's also attached these little charms to each loop: a pacifier, a GC insignia, a sun... "Its amazing." He smiles, and gives me a hug. I kiss his cheek and then we both freeze, me still in his arms. It feels so right... yet so wrong. His parents are staring and so he gives me a little extra squeeze and lets me go. Yesterday at graduation, we had a similar problem... I just feel... more me when he holds me.

That night he comes into my room. "Heya."

"Hey." I smile and turn around from my desk, swiveling several times. Zyllie giggles and chirps. I hug her, looking down at her wistfully.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I said, forcing a smile. I can't hold the smile that long and so I have to slip over to Zyllie's crib and put her down. I wobble a little bit as I overreach, and Sean puts his hands out to steady me. I stand back up and his nose is nuzzling my hair. "Sean?" I turn around and he kisses me, full on the lips.

For a second I freeze and he pulls back. Then I slip my hand up and onto his high cheekbones. I've never noticed how truly blue his eyes are... or maybe I have, because they are so familiar. His arms are around my thin waist. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

He looks away for only a second, long eyelashes shadowing those enchanting orbs. "Almost certainly." He smiles his crooked smile and I reach up to kiss him again, harder and more passionately. His arms rove over me and it feels amazing. No one has ever touched me quite like that and my body just melts into his as his mouth drinks me.

I wake up in the middle of the night, and stir gently. Sean's arm wraps around me. It feels so good to have his weight against me: to have a guy who doesn't even need me to have sex, he just wants to kiss me and sleep there next to me. I smile at him one last time as I toss the duffel bag onto the ground below and climb down myself.


Gone: Sean.

I wake up in Cyan's bed and stretch. I smile, even though I know that today will be very complicated: for God's sake she's my adopted sister and I kissed her... and she kissed me. I smile and turn over on her pillow: on a Sunday, I can get a little extra sleep. My face hits a piece of paper. When I see Cyan's handwriting I smile a little, enjoying her cryptic side. I open it up and read:

Sean--
I told you I was going to do this, I did. I think it was the first day of school. But yes, I did tell you so don't take this as a complete surprise. I'm gone. Tell that asshole I've gone when he calls next. And remember:

memory is not alone in the moonlight--
the shadows play on the pavement
and dance before my eyes.
memory is shadows in the lamplight--
silhouetted people, branches, leaves
that shift before my eyes.
memory is the wind swirling the light--
tiny dew and dust fracturing beams
and swimming before my eyes.
memory is a yellowed book in a new light--
pages turn as slowly as they used to
and ideas like waves before my eyes.
but memory is still a part of me now--
I live in the past not the present
memories hang before my eyes:
for even if I am not dead at heart
I am still sick at soul.


------I love you.
Cyan



I read the letter three times before I can even begin to understand it. Then I hear a soft cry from the cradle. "No way." I whisper: she'd never leave Zyllie behind. But when I get to the cradle there's one of Cyan's silk screened wall hangings. This one has a Japanese tree in the sunset on it, and words in fancy script. I read them aloud, even though Zyllie can't understand:

A little bundle, full of joy
or demon-spawn with a great ploy?
A tiny hand, waving in delight
or claw filled with Satanic light?
A charming giggle, disarming smile
or tiny seductive sack of bile?
A newborn child, the love of life
or backstabber with itty bitty knife?
A hugging, loving little girl
or murderer with wispy curl?
A darling baby, of my very own,
a mother insane, left all alone.
Cry baby, you'll not bring me back,
that way there's nothing you'll lack.
I wish-- if only you can save me,
it'd be good, even with the fee.
A price, blood price, for you,
my child, a life started new.
You are worth it all, everything
for in a moment when you sing
I lose my soul, my heart, my love
fly from my arms, sweet baby dove.
In a world of anger, disgust, hate
you don't want to share my fate.
So run from me, my little darling,
the world will always be snarling
snarling at you for my mistake--
the mistake I'd never retake.
A mistake that gave me you, baby girl.
I love you, sweetheart, baby, pearl.
Honey, grow strong, strong inside,
because your life's a rough rough ride.
But its worth it, every single minute,
because my love for you has no limit.
So as I lay you down to sleep
please don't cry, please don't weep.
I'm leaving you, I know its true,
but believe me baby, it's for you.


By the end I'm crying, and even as I run to the window I know she's gone. And I know that she isn't coming back. She's left everything, and I don't even know why.


Back: Sean:

“I’ll get it, Mom.” I yell as I slide down the staircase. I open the door to a pretty young woman in an expensive looking dress standing on the porch. “Hi.” I’m half confused half starstruck.

“Hi.” She replies shakily, looking at me oddly. I smile, run my tongue over my teeth and then, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t remember me, do you, Sean?” I shake my head, opening my mouth to apologize. She pulls her long cinnamon hair back and scowls.

“Cyan?” I feel my jaw drop. She looks completely different.

“I don’t mean to intrude or anything, really I don’t. I just wanted to come by and say…” I raise my eyebrows and grin. We both know she didn’t come by to say hi. “Is Zyllie—” She stops short and I look behind me to see the beautiful little five year old. “Hi, sweetie.” Her voice is very tense and odd.

"Who that, S'awn?" The little girl lisps adorably. I can't think of anything to say.

"Do you remember me, Zyllie-baby?"

"No body call me Zyllie!" The five year old pouts. "Only S'awny and Mommy can call me Zyllie."

"I know, sweetie. Do you remember me, baby?" Cyan kneels on the floor before Zyllie and her eyes are filled with tears.

Zyllie cocks her head and looks at Cyan. "You look a bit like my Mommy. Only your hair is long and browny-ier. My Mommy was real predy like you. See." Zyllie bites her lip and smiles as she holds out a battered photograph.

Cyan takes it with a shaking hand. She looks at it, but I don't have to. I gave Zyllie that photograph when she was three and asked where her Mommy was. It's a good one, of Cyan dressed up for graduation, holding Zyllie. It used to be on my desk.

"Are you Mommy's sister?" Zyllie asks, breaking the awkward silence.

"No. Zyllie, I'm--" Cyan stops short and I stare at her. "Hi, Nia."

"Get out." My mother's voice is low and dangerous. "Get out of my house."

"Please listen to me. I'm not here to take her away! Honest! I just want to see her! Please let me see her!" Cyan sobs as my mother roughly pulls her out of the house.

"Mommy!" Zyllie yells and runs out as fast as she can on her chubby legs. "Bring Mommy back! I want Mommy!" Mom dumps Cyan outside and runs back in to grab the screaming Zyllie and carry her upstairs. I can only watch, dumbstruck.


Regrets and Revelations: Cyan:

I sit on the curb crying, "I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" I jump up and reflexively pull my prim khaki dress straight. "You've changed, punkie."

"I guess I have." I try to smile, and wipe my eyes. "Maybe not for the better. I shouldn't have come, Sean. I've upset her... and she was doing fine without me. Fuck!"

"She wasn't fine without you." His voice is harsh. "That girl cried for days after you left. She begs me to tell her about you. Every day she prays for you to come back. Until she learned how to read she made me read that poem you left her over and over. She kisses your photograph before she goes to bed. Christ, she loves you and you left her."

"And he stopped calling, didn't he?" My voice is calm even in the face of his bewilderment. "You told him I ran away and he left Zyllie alone. That's what I had to do."

"What happened?" Maybe I wasn't as calm as I thought. He knows that Christian tracked me down, but he doesn't know about what happened next. And he won't know.

"It doesn't matter. Zyllie's safe now and I just... I needed to see with my own eyes that she was safe. I knew that you would be a good... that you would look after her but I had to see her. She looks..."

"She looks like you." His voice is husky and soft. "I can see you in her eyes, everyday. You left me but you didn't leave her. Even her hair--" He reaches out and lifts a fistful of my long browny-red hair. "Damn, you've changed. You look respectable."

"I kind of am." I smile, thinking back on my girlhood.

"I'm respectable too... except around you." He leans in and touches my cheekbone. I look down and shake my head. "What the hell happened to you?"

Another tear trickled down my cheek, and this time not for my daughter. "You'll be hearing from my husband's lawyer in a few days. He wants Zyllie to come and live with us so that we aren't shirking our responsibilities." With that I left, and got into by black Jaguar convertable and drove off, still crying.

I didn't want to look back and see his face.


The Law: Sean

When an official looking envelope arrived a week later I intercepted it on its way from the mailbox to my house. Shutting the door to my room, I tore it open and read.

...In the matter of the child Valorie Vivien Xavier, daughter of Cyan Xavier Pawt, this court will determine custody between the family of Mr. Sean Potter (in whose custody the child has been left for the past three years) and Mr. and Mrs. James (Cyan) Pawt. A preliminary hearing will be held...

I stared at the letter, uncomprehending. She really was going to take Zyllie away from us. Her and James Pawt. That name sounded familiar somehow. I flipped on my laptop and went to Google. I typed in "James Pawt" and waited anxiously. "1,309 hits" the monitor said and I gaped. I opened the first link and read.

...billionaire owner of Pawt International, James Pawt, declined to talk to reporters today about the death of one of his employees on the tanker "Endurence." Mr. Pawt's lawyers also declined to comment, saying only that the situation was, as of yet, "unsure" and that they would know soon what that sailor's fate was...

...Pawt hosted the Sinai Hospital Gala at his New Jersey mansion. The benefit raised 2.7 billion dollars for the local hospital which will be used to buy a new Emergency Room in the Pawt Wing...

Under this article there was a picture of a smiling man, good-looking in his late twenties with a woman behind him. I quickly zoomed in on the picture and saw what must be Cyan. She was wearing a long strapless blue dress that flared at the bottom, and holding James Pawt's arm. Her head was tilted down and from the stoop of her shoulders, Sean could guess that she was fairly exhausted. Then he looked closer. She looked pregnant.

That was the last straw.


Court: Cyan.

I came into court that day, not feeling at all well. James told me that I "didn't have to talk" which I knew meant that I shouldn't talk. Shouldn't talk to the Potters. I sat there, knees together, ankles crossed, smoothing my fashionable skirt down over my knees and picking at stray threads (of which there were none) on my blazer. James sat beside me, talking rapidly to his lawyer. He didn't talk to me.

My head drooped until I heard the gate swing open, telling me that the Potters (or their representatives) had arrived. I looked up and saw Nia come in, deliberately looking away. Then Tasha (a more sedate Tasha, in a pale pink sundress) and a rather weasel-y looking man who I could only assume was her boyfriend. I almost smiled, he looked so henpecked!

My half smile faded away when Sean came in alone. I had hoped he would have brought Zyllie. I looked over at him, pleading, and he nodded (which I found strange). He then whispered something in his sister's ear, stood and left the court room. it took me a minute to understand.

Then I quickly stood up and followed him out, completely ignoring my husband. I didn't feel bad about it. He ignored me often enough! When I got outside the huge double doors I stopped, quickly glancing around either side, trying to decide which way Sean had gone. In the end his voice alerted me to his presence.

"You want to explain a few things, Cyan?"

"What things?" I rounded on him, pulling off my stifling blazer. I tossed it on the bench he sat on.

"Oh, how you came to be married to a billionaire but didn't bother to see your daughter before now? What happened with her father? What happened to you? And where's Pawt's kid?"

"James' kid?" My voice faltered slightly. "Oh, which one?" Sean's eyes rocketed upwards. "It doesn't matter which... they're both dead anyway."

"Dead?" The word shoots out, like an accusation. As though I'd killed them. Tears fill up in my eyes. "Cyan, I--"

"Don't." I cut him off. "Just don't." He looks purplexed, and tries to start again. "Look, there are certain things I don't want to talk about. That's one of them." I inhale sharply, sniffing a bit, and gulp down the tears. "Is she here or not?"

"I wouldn't bring her to this." Sean says, looking down at his long fingers. "What if they said something that she shouldn't hear?"

I nod, of course. Sean just thinks of everything. He is a good father to her. "I..." I don't know how to say anything. "Damn it, Sean. Look, I just want... I need you to... Shit, look. Thanks for looking after my baby girl. You've done a good job."

"Well, I wouldn't have had to if you didn't run off." He says, not at all the response I'd expected. After that much effort to get out a thank you he just blames me for everything. When I'm trying so hard and I sure as hell didn't want to leave. I didn't have a choice. That's when I realize that I've been yelling my thoughts aloud.

"You keep saying you didn't have a choice. That's nice for you to know but right now I have a five year old girl asking me what her Mommy's up to and I can't exactly say 'How the fuck should I know, she hasn't taken the god-damn time to enlighten me!' Is that what I should say to Zyl? Huh, is it?"

"Look, do you think any of this was easy for me?" I yell back. "Do you think I wanted to leave my baby girl behind? After all I've given up for her do you really think I'd just run off and ditch her. If I could have stayed I would've but you know that I couldn't."

"That's just it! I don't know! I don't know because you won't tell me. You tell me why you left! You won't tell me what happened! You won't tell me how we get from this note to you being a married woman!" He pulls the note out of his pocket. It's creased and torn slightly from folding and refolding. It's clear that he's read it countless times. I snatch it, reading the poem in an instant and then those three words. I love you.

"Did you mean it?" He asks in a softer tone.

"Mrs. Pawt?" The lawyer's voice sounds behind me. I pivoted and looked at him. "Your husband would like to see you inside. We're about to begin." Poor man, I thought, sent out by an arrogant millionaire to find his errant wife.

"Thank you, Tomas." I forced a smile and began to walk towards him, away from Sean. "And Sean," I turned back to look at him just before I went into the courtroom. "I don't say things I don't mean." I quickly ducked through the door, not wanting to see his reaction, and followed my husband's attorney back up the aisle.
© Copyright 2002 Madeleine goes to Brown (athena at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/545806-Sick-at-Heart-Dead-at-Soul