“Just Awards” (cont’d) January 6, 2008

My mom once said, life can sometimes hand you a million lemons and never give you the sugar to make lemonade.  I never really got it till i got Emmy.  I was stuck; stuck with a million lemons and nothin to do with them.  My mom was never what someone would call optimistic or even happy.  When she found out i was pregnant it was just a “Welcome to my life” and “get out of my house.”  she thanked me though, said she could finally leave dad now that i was gone. She said i was the only thing that kept her from running–that i’d been the only reason her whole life.  She’d been with dad since 9th grade, had me on graduation. I guess that’s when dad turned ugly, when she got pregnant.  So she named me Melancholy and stuck it out to try and keep me from my dad.  Did a miserable job at it.  By the time i was 3 i knew to be ready when dad got home cuz thats when the bruises and the pain and the screams all came.  Once when i was 7 i tried to run, i hid in the car ready to drive away.  But he caught caught me; caught me and took me off so mom wouldn’t see.  He told me there if i took my clothes off and listened he wouldn’t hit me.  I did.  and he didn’t hit me.  But he hurt me; he hurt me good.  I went home crying and my mom looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Now listen Melly, don’t you  get into the same garbage i did-you keep your memories and let ‘em guide you ‘way from all this.” 

 

That was the first kind thing she ever said to me.  And the last.  Now she was gone–took the first bus out as soon as i had my baby.  The only thing she left me was a note, she stuffed it in my pocket before she’d ran. All it said was “I warned you.  Hope your Hell is better than mine.”  I saved it and cried.  

 

Emmy was my only comfort and yet she was my deepest regret.  Every time i heard her cry i’d rush to her side before Jack could curse.  and i’d hold her tight, my fingers twirling bits of her fiery hair.  That was Jack’s.  But she had my eyes–my dark blue eyes that could turn stormy with emotion.  They made my heart bleed because they came from my father.  Every time i looked at Emmy i could relive every moment i’d ever spent with my dad.  Those moments when the world would fade and all i could do was scream as those eyes growled at me.  But Emmy’s didn’t burn.  They sparkled.  And i soon learned to smile at them as cooed and played with her little baby hands.  And i suppose my Hell was better.  Jack didn’t touch her.  I don’t think he ever had or even wanted to.  He was too busy; busy with his various girls and forms of entertainment.  It was just me and Emmy in the house for days on end.  And it was nice; the house i mean.  Sometimes the seclusion would drive me nuts.  My friends had abandoned me. Half of them chased after jack all day.  Jack and his red hair and winks.  Jack and i lived at his mom’s place.  She was up in New York doing something.  Probably standing at street corner with her mini skirts and hooker boots.  I know i didn’t miss her.  

 

But i did miss life.  Being seventeen and not being able to party or play sucked.  I would sometimes imagine a happy home.  You know, the one’s in the movies and on TV.  Where, no matter what, they always loved each other.  I’d hold Emmy and imagine my husband coming home and kissing me on the cheek then sweeping Emmy into a bear hug.  But no matter how many times i tried to take a step into imagination, i’d always be pulled back into reality.  The dark, empty house.  The sound of trains and screeching tires.  The flickering lights and broken heater.  Emmy’s tears of Jack’s slammed doors.  Reality would always pull me back and i’d find myself back to all the pain and guilt.  But at least my dad wasn’t around.

 

He hadn’t seen me since the hospital.  Said i was trash and he wouldn’t be with trash.  But he didn’t seem to have a problem with prostitutes or strippers.  but i didn’t care.  Life without him was a little bit brighter and i was starting to see that maybe life was handing me a bit of sugar to go along with those lemons.  And it seemed to get brighter still when Jack finally bought some cable.

 

I was watching it, feeding Emmy, when a news flash popped up–my mom’s face all over it.  I nearly dropped Emmy, leaning close to the TV to catch every word.  It seemed she’d been found dead, not a thing on her, in a park outside the city.  Last word about her was a person on the same bus as her had watched her get kicked off at a stop.  She hadn’t had enough money.  They’d found her two days later, her broken body strewn in the mud.  No one had come for her body.  Even as i watched it i grew ill, turning my head just to make sure no one else was in the house.  Because, to me, the whole thing reeked of Dad.  

 

I started to scream, to shudder and cry.  I didn’t hear Emmy or the TV.  It was just me, feeling my dads presence and seeing my moms bruised face.  Suddenly Jack was next to me, trying to slap me out of it.  But it was the perfume and smell of cheap lipstick that pulled me out.  He was covered in it.  I pushed him away, my eyes burning.

 

“Get away!” i growled, “Go back to your whores. I’m leaving.”

 

He stared at me for a minute then stood, walking back out the door he’d just come in, taking time only to say, “Then get going, slut.”

 

I didn’t wait to hear the door slam.  I grabbed Emmy and ran to the bedroom, grabbing the phone and reaching to dial 911.  But it was too late.  Before i could the phone rang and i picked up, too tired todo otherwise.  How i wish i had.

 

“Melancholy, its dad.”

 

My stomach dropped and i couldn’t breathe.  Every muscle in my body screamed at me to hang up, but i couldn’t.  I was paralyzed at the sound of his voice.

 

“Be a good girl and put the phone down, i’ll be over in a few minutes and then we’ll make a trip…we’ll go see your mom.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, dad.  I saw the news.”

 

He swore and i could hear him throw his fist on the horn.  ”Now listen here, you whore.  If you so much as move i will find you and send you and that kid down the gutter.  And you know i’d do it.”

 

“Yeah.  I do.”  my mind was spinning, i couldn’t focus.  But Emmy stared up at me, her dark eyes twinkling and i knew what i had to do.  ”But you can be sure as hell i won’t give you the chance.”  Then i hung up.  And for the first time in years i smiled.  I actually smiled.  But then i heard the screeching tires and the slamming of a car door and i knew he was here. 

 

I grabbed Emmy, throwing her in my purse and lunging out the window.  Then i ran.  Emmy was screaming and i knew dad would follow us but i didn’t care.  I was smiling.  And i was free.  I rushed around to the front and into his car as i heard him yell out the window.  he’d left the keys in so i pressed my foot to the gas and drove, drove away from Hell.  I heard him screaming and could imagine him falling to the ground, cursing like the mad man he was.  And my smile got bigger.  It seemed like sugar was falling from heaven and i could finally do something with those lemons.  But then i heard the gun.  And the tire popped.  And another.  and another.  My car spun out of control, slamming into a tree and throwing Emmy and me into a heap.   

 

Dad was with us in seconds.  He pulled me from the car and threw me to the asphalt.  Then he was on me, beating me hard.  I could still hear Emmy crying and every part of me thought of her and only her.  I realized then and there i could let my dad beat me and be fine.  I’d finally be free.  But Emmy…i couldn’t.  For the first time i fought back.  I controlled my emotions and i fought against the punches and tearing of clothes and flesh.  I threw my father off me, the blood pumping out of my body as i grabbed Emmy and ran.  

 

It was getting darker and i had no idea where i was going.  But i didn’t care.  I ran away and that was enough for me.  But soon i started to slow, my body sticky with blood.  he’d hurt me.  My eyes were dancing, i couldn’t focus.  My hair was falling in clumps where he’d pulled and my flesh cracking and spitting blood angrily.  But i still ran.  Emmy’s cries made sure of that.  and eventually i stopped.  My mind was haywire, pulling me from reality to my imaginary world of marital bliss.  I would giggle then scream, cry then smile.  I soon found my body crumpling under itself and i dropped onto a doorstep, whispering a lullaby as the door opened.  I heard the yelps of surprise and worried calls for husband and to call 911.  My eyes stopped looking, but i felt a woman fall next to me. 

 

“What is it?  What’s a matter? What happened?”  were her worried exclamations.  All i could do was hum, patting my bag and saying “Emmy” over and over again.  Finally i felt someone pick me up.  I wanted to struggle, images of my father attacking me, but my body wouldn’t let me.  I found myself on a bed with panicked yells around me.

 

I heard Emmy cry and i smiled, “Mommy’s here.  We’re free.” i sang, choking on the blood that filled my throat.  

 

“Who did this?” was the repeated shout.

 

“Daddy.  Daddy hurt me.  But he’s done now.  I’m done.”

 

 And with a final kiss on Emmy’s cheek, i let my body stop.  I floated off with a smile, stopping for a farewell to my fantasy world.

 

“And here she is, just awarded Emmy…Miss Melancholy!” 

 

And i was gone.