The man in her head is also very silent he has gone spare with the truth the tragedy was that he still thought he was right to abuse her sexually in the middle of the public. Her parents’ sex life took a dive. She began to write some poetry and they began to be published. The abusers stood by idly they weren’t enjoying her success. What right does a person have to take from another person the life she wants to live even if the other person loves that person that does not make them their owner?
So Emine thought about ownership of a person the ownership of a dog the ownership of one’s life. Could she have died of the shock as the doctor has told her repeatedly to think before she does anything like that again? Oh she had she reasoned but he was not to know that.
To be abused sexually in front of her parents while they got their thrills and to be abused in front of all those men that was more disgusting than having no hand that was nothing. Having someone torment and cripple her was something that needed to be dealt with and it would have been a certain death if she had not done that trick. Trying to cut off something that was not real she had not meant it maybe she had but it worked didn’t it? She got rid of the abuse didn’t she?
“But the shock would probably have killed you?”
“Of course that could have happened.”
“No probability at all it would have taken your gifted life and made it into dust.”
“Now what is it?”
“I will not do that even if I am annoyed.”
“Well if I am annoyed then I might.”
“Find a different way round the problem.”
“You are the writer find a solution.”
“That is interesting and if it is against the law??”
“Find another solution that is within the law.”
“You know that is a good idea.”
“Great idea isn’t it?”
Never tried that one again had many times to go and reassure the doctor that I was ok. That hands off did not mean a thing that my hand was safe as houses. I was not going to give up the ghost. It was wrong to do that there is different ways to solve my problems that he was going to try to solve everything that I should be educated and seen to. He seemed to be relaxing when the abuse nearly started again and then some other doctor came.
The abuse was to be stopped but they had to stop it constantly it was as if madness was in the air. Everyone out to grab a bit of me as if the stars had fallen into the kitchen sink and I was there gathering the stars. It was my bad luck that the kitchen sink was always full of dishes that I did not see the stars.
How come forbidden fruit tastes better than something everybody allows? I hurt all over as if my insides are aching to be heard. I am in need of something that is myself is no longer here but a part of something else. Something big in me is the need to reach out to someone else before this self goes into never-never-land. I make myself up with the obvious intent to lure the first available Tom and he comes looking worse the wear as if his tonsils have been out. He is obliging me and I feel loved and humoured and a person. He is treating me like a woman and I feel happy, it is such an obvious thing to do. The ex did not want to do all that he thought I should suffer and be glad of even tokens of respect, or no esteem at all no one respects me at all.
What is human? Are we the perfect race? Don’t it is obviously embarrassing to be my ex it is unbearable as I watch the women in his life all agog to prove to this man that they are woman in love. Their tussled bodies speaks volumes and I feel their pain to be obliged to do this to act out the love that he threw away so that he can pretend to be in total control. He does not realise that to be human and in love is to have no control. That the warmth a woman desires is to see the man in her life act out like a man and not a spoilt kid.
However as the ex gloats that he has sex with two women all with their little children in tow to see him so low lowers my spirits as if I see something obscene something abnormal. He is still happily sending out cars to run me over, man to spit in my face and to intimidate me. The dollies like girls who are very young to make me feel vulnerable and ugly. He has nothing to do all day but to do this. The cars come and go the women go and come they have become more ugly or is it just me? They all look as if they are having a rough time. I am oblivious to the facts they look at me as if I am the culprit the woman who did not say yes. But obviously I would have once but he blew it.
I am not in a relationship without Tom being the sea saw to while away this pent up rage that I am feeling as if Tom is the fall guy as if he being the man is the most precious thing to me. He looks at me again as if he is a dog worn out and is obviously in need of a cuddle. I fear to cuddle him in case it is over before it begins. I beg the question as I take the Christmas cake and look at it and look at it as if it is poison. But why give a diabetic such a present? I take it and Susie goes out in search of a walker. I call her and say bad Susie. Tom is not even answering me as if he is too care worn to care as if he is on another level as if he has had enough of something and I feel the same as if the year we have spent together fighting criminals have aged us together into several years as we have nothing to do but to look at each other and our future is such a future as only we two mad people can envisage with all the mafia after us with all the world on drugs with people trying to bump me off. With us together for that second was like I can breathe.
I laugh at Susie suddenly in a good mood I look ok I feel lively alert as if I can fight everybody in case someone did come. A man is walking towards me with purpose I walk straight at him and he goes on the road sideways as if he is staggered by my walk. I wish to find someone else in my way to fight this battle to fight this war to fight anyone who is against the street having a good name.
I feel tired but ok so I AM worn out it is a time since I had a decent rest. We walk Susie and me with the walls of my unconscious helping the walls of my mind. What if I fail what if there is nothing in this love like the other? What of that at least I’ve got memories at least it means something what if Tom is mad? At least he doesn’t look the part. What if entire world is against? What of that?
My sisters think I’m mad and they are obviously prejudiced against me I fear to tell them anything in case they call the ambulance and have me put away. I am laughing at these thoughts no longer able to think of anything else but these thoughts as if my having a sister who is greedy is not enough I have two of them who are forgetful who had saved their lives.
In the childhood which never happened I was the one who saved lives I was the one who tried to nurture in the childhood that never happened I was the one to blame for everything. In the childhood that never was I was the one with the crushed spirit as if my having a spirit was too much for these people called mum and dad.
Food we must have food. Social worker came and still we were almost empty. Mum tried to kill a little boy because he had too much food. She left a safety pin around as she was doing the nappy the child clasped it and if it was not for the safety pin being closed it would have been serious. Sister saw it too she was the one who noticed where the safety pin was. We got the safety pin and the child who had swallowed it did it in the toilet sometime later. Mum was very anxious and there was dad thinking a good mum.
“Don’t babysit again.”
“It was not my fault. The child did not look.”
“Which child is it?”
“Emine was supposed to look.”
“I did mum but you were too slow.”
“Don’t answer me back I will deal with you later.”
“But mum you were ages doing and undoing and being so slow had to look outside into the street.”
“You belong in the streets don’t answer me back.”
“If you hit that child I am going to hit you as well” Said dad to mum as she raged at being powerless in the massive authority that was Dad.
“Begin crying then?”
“I fear to look at what is going to happen to that child.” I said the insides would be awful if the pin is open.”
“Let us pray it is closed.” Said dad, “Otherwise your mum is liable and they will take what money we have.”
“I won’t babysit again.”
“You damn right you won’t.”
“You were supposed to be looking.”
The child’s father came looking very angry so did his mum. I was not asked my opinion as to who was culpable and the matter seemed to have dropped but not in my mind. For some reason this incident made me uneasy. The family moved out a week later and there it should have ended. But it did not. There was gossip that maybe mum was not a good mum. The whispering began and then stopped as if the words died on everybody’s lips.
However I had said that my sister had noticed that the child had swallowed the safety pin. I was agog to see what would happen? Would she get into trouble too? But before the man and woman left the man came looking very subdued and almost excited about something he said to my sister, “Look this is for you!”
“What is it?” She asked warily.
“Take them and see.” He said.
I said, “It might be something good won’t it Mr?”
Mum had left the room going to her bedroom without pausing she looked indifferently by as if our being in trouble was out of the question.
“We are sorry Mr.”
“I am being told that. Don’t worry you did the right thing. That is why we are not going to the police.”
“I say Mr that is most good. I am sure accidents can happen.”
“It shouldn’t happen to my child.”
“I guess it shouldn’t what is in the box?”
“Something you’ll enjoy and thank you both of you. Please share it out and not be sorry you all did the best but we can’t live within reach of that woman.”
“You are all in league aren’t you? Why protect that monster?”
“She is kind to us and she isn’t a monster.” I said. Sister was thoughtful she looked at the box and went out with it. She took it to my other sister who had not done a thing and they shared it out. I was not invited to share but went and took my bit. There was an almighty tussle but we did in the end agree that it was best we did not give any to mother and father but have it between us as we had not had any chocolate in months.
That day was hopeful and new and good and realised that to be good is not to be a fool. That to do a good deed is not to harm the purse but to prosper and be. That to help others like oneself is the ultimate goal. To be human one has to help others or do unto others as you would to yourself. What on earth was this soup I was in? This bestiality and common sense as if my senses my morals my deeds were all being mapped out? I was being mapped out as a person. Those were the days when I sensed everything as if all my senses were getting prickles and pears all my senses were alert to see the slightest lesson the slightest tremor the slightest bad and the good. I was a common woman’s child yet I felt so sure of myself as if the goal had already been reached. I was petrified of losing this sureness this strength this me that was coming out. I did not want to be disillusioned a harpy a bad person. I thought about it that would kill what was in me. Something was in me bubbling with this happiness this feeling of life this give and take from the world as if I was petrified of losing out getting out of control. Yet my strength lay in my eyes seeing more than others could see my strength was also in that I was terrified of being uncertain.
I was tired of seeming to see nothing and wanted to express these thoughts and feelings as if expression were in words. I could not do anything but sense and my senses were not as numb as now. I could feel the grass growing the sun coming out and the noise in the next room. I would jump a mile from the slightest abnormality as if it were a curse. I did not like oddities nor out of zinc situations. I did not care for odd humours or to anything that would take me away from myself. These odd creatures that were in the rooms were me. It was most odd feeling this for without these creatures expressing my thoughts I would have to express them. I was the good because they were so bad.
I fell in a rage realising this. It was most inopportune thinking these thoughts when I did not want them to be related to me. Look at mum? Always wanting to be the centre of creation and now here she was in this room without a centre but me to observe how beautifully she sang. She was so frustrated it was unbearable to watch her.
My bubbles burst and I did not know it.