“You hurt me.”

I didn’t realize it at the time. Honestly, until yesterday….those were the exact words that my biological mom used and hurled at my brothers during the inferno. One caught it by the ears. One caught it by the heart.
I caught it when it pierced my head.

She saw me.
She reduced me.

The visibility.
The invisibility.

The ruins of Pompeii.

The ruined.
The resurrection without dignity.
The deaths without it’s mercy.

I am encased, while she blows with the wind.

I destroy everything that loved. I.

I’ve just come to realize that my brothers and I ruined our mother. As an adult I have a better understanding.. as an adult I have a further understanding.
As an adult, I have no understandings.

She let us know.. in incriminates.. in disclosures…

I remember her…
She made sure to present the evidence in a neatly wound package ..that was pristine and almost blinding to the eye..

As a kid, I was allured.. I was lured.

Every once in a while as a child, my mother made sure to tell me how different and amazing her life allegedly was, pre us.. but then she would throw in that she gave that up to have us.

The one I remember most vividly was her telling me that she was sometimes approached on the streets, and by talent agencies ..She said they would approach her and tell her she has “the look” and they wanted her to join a modeling agency. She said that she had contracts drawn up, and she was ready to sign but she declined when she found out she was expecting. “I gave it all up for you”… because I wanted you and your brothers.

As a child, I was flattered. As a teen I was uncomfortable. As an adult I’m in an uncomfortable wonderment.

I realize my mom perhaps was manipulating me, so that later in her life one or all of us would “repay” her of her sacrifices. That if the roles ever became reversed, we would take care of her and her needs.

She did the same thing to my youngest brother and I before entering foster care.

She probably was mandated to turn us in voluntarily, or she was on a quest to reclaim her “stolen” life. That fateful day.. where stillness an eerieness was in the air. One of those days where things seemingly turned out favorable, but the Jinn lingered heavily in the air. The air felt like deception. This is why she asked us each three times “Do you want to go into foster care, do you think you’d be better off?”.

We said yes.

Are you sure this is what you want?

We said yes.

I noticed her voice had a pleading tone.
I noticed the relief. I heard the eagerness.

Life was overwhelming for all. Perhaps it wasn’t that. My mother strived to be a “fixer”, it deeply saddened her that she couldn’t fix “us”, nor could she herself.

Off we went. She wanted to use our answers as ammunition later on in life… possibly to guilt trip us, and force us to see her as a hero, a deity …who would rescue us from the terrible situation we’d put ourselves in. We were to worship, behave, and praise her.

Allegedly, I’ll never know..

After the catastrophe between K, foster mom, and I. We all lost our grace and premeditated footing.

I was deeply haunting by the aftermath.

K told the foster program and unfortunately they didn’t protect her. They mocked. They tarnished. They destroyed. They told her that she was lying and those things didn’t happen. They said that it was because she was unhappy and doing things to get herself removed and placed back into her former residential care facility.

They tried to guiltrip her into sentiments.
They tried to brainwash her into believing this place was the best for her. That foster mom and her family all loved her, deeply cared, wanted the best for her, and was trying to help her in life. Show her better.

They told her that she shouldn’t be making false accusations about me, and that I wouldn’t harm her.

I desperately wanted to tell them how wrong they all were. I wanted to tell the truth. I wanted to incriminate myself. I belonged in jail. I belonged facing temporary and lifelong consequences.

Anything just for K. To be heard. To be acknowledged. To be recognized. To be correctly identified. To have Identity.

I was ready to give it.

Unfortunately, my foster mom and her family shamed me and threatened me removal to keep the truth buried. They told me not to tell.

Unfortunately, I was a coward. I was in survival mode. I had no one…I haven’t any one….but. Them. I didn’t want to be juggled and shuffled into the system again.

So I failed them.

K became more absent at home. She’d leave for school on a Monday morning, and we wouldn’t see her until that Weds. .only to shower and change, drop off laundry and leave for a few more days .

She presented herself. She masked herself better and somewhat stopped when she became around 14..

That’s when her mother became a fixture in her life again.

Ty

Tbc