I paused. The door was left ajar. I pushed it open and walked in. The room lookedlike a New Jersey garbage dump. Clothes had been ripped off the hangers, left and rightshoes were oddly flung about, and pieces of jewelry were mangled and tattered. Therewas a bare mattress that was lying on the floor, separated from the box spring andheadrest. It was bedraggled with loose feathers that had been ripped from the pillows.The mattress was half dressed, with a yellow stained sheet wrapped around the bottom ofit. There were hoards of dirty clothing piled on to it. I walked closer and moved a smallpile over and felt cold dead flesh. I jumped.
“No! No! No!”
I covered my face. I wanted it to be dark. I didn’t want to see the image that was infront of me. I closed my eyes tight and prayed. I prayed to God, to the Orishas, to thesaints, to the shadows to please let this not be real. I squeezed my eyes shut and openedthem again. The body was still there. It was my mom, lying on her back. Her dress wassoiled and torn. Her legs awkwardly straddled the mattress. Her neck looked grosslydistorted. The bottoms of her feet were hard and covered in black soot.
My heart was pounding. A siege of tremors caused me to rock back and forth. All theemotions inside of me erupted and I fell to my knees. Tears streamed down my face likehot lava. I crawled to the mattress on all fours and buried my head into my mom’s coldbosom.
I don’t know how long I was there. All I can remember was that it was pitch black inthe room when Maria and the police officers arrived. People were talking to me, but Icouldn’t hear them. I didn’t want to leave my mom. I didn’t want to leave her ever again.I lay there on the mattress with my arms wrapped around her corpse and my head nuzzledinto her chest. A woman with stringy brown hair tried to pull me off. I screamed andlatched back on to my mom. She pulled me from my torso. I released my grip, turnedaround, and began to lash out at her. I threw out loaded blows in an uncontrollable blackrage.
Although the woman was twice my size, she was no match for my agility and stealth.She tried to control me by pinning my arms down to my sides, but I quickly turned andmanaged to grab a fist full of her ratty brown hair. I maneuvered her neck, positioning herdirectly at eye level as I hammered punches into her face. After about two minutes, Mariamoved in and ambushed me with a sneak attack. Her three hundred pound frame was aformidable force, and in just two quick movements, she was able to scoop me up andcarry me out of the room. The police were downstairs.
Their eyes widened with disbelief as they watched a big-bone woman gingerly carrya thirteen year old kicking and screaming girl down the stairs.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I looked around me and realized that I was back at thechildren’s shelter. I scanned the room. It was pitch black. My pupils dilated and I beganto make out a few objects in the room. There was the dresser, the nightstand, a bookshelf,and a long mirror that hung on the back of the door. It was after hours and I wasn’tsupposed to be awake. I wanted to turn my light on and read a book, but I looked overand saw that my roommate Sky was sleeping in the twin bed next to me. I sighed andflopped back down onto the bed. I needed to think happy thoughts. No more memoriesabout the past.
I opened my eyes and saw a black silhouette moving towards me. Nico! I flinched. Ilooked around the room befuddled. Then I saw something move out of the corner of myeye. No, this could not be happening, not to me. I rushed out of bed, my hand knockedover the desk lamp. It rocked back and forth before stabilizing itself. I looked over atSky, she was still sound asleep. My heart was pounding. I wiped my brow. I wassweating. I jumped when I saw something else scamper across the room. They weretaunting me.
“Leave me alone.” I heard myself say.
It seemed that I had given them exactly what they wanted.
“We are here and we ain’t going away.” “LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screamed.Suddenly, the room was flooded with light.
I heard loud, wicked cackles. They seemed to be aroused by my vulnerability.
“No, we are here to make sure that your soul burns in Hell!
“NO!” I screamed.
Someone was banging on the door.
“Nelly? Sky? Is everything okay in there?”
No, I wasn’t okay. I was locked in a room, alone, with the shadows. They all beganto chant at once, sounding like a disjointed chorus. Then, they all took turns with their offpitched solos.
The first voice, a high soprano, wanted me to run out into the street and fling mybody in front of the first moving car that I saw. This voice was soon interceded by a tonedeaf baritone that suggested that I escape and climb to the tallest building and throwmyself off the edge.
“I don’t want to listen to you. I don’t want to listen to the shadows.”
A third voice chimed in, and suggested that I steal a razor blade, lock myself in thebathroom and slit both of my wrist. The two voices joined forces and began theirmaniacal duo.
“Only the crazy survive”
