CHAPTER 1: A TROUBLED SOUL: PART 1

Maxine’s P.O.V

I tossed and turned trying slumber to embrace my godforsaken body but it wouldn't let me. Grumbling I urged myself to sleep but it was no use. The thoughts buried down my mind were haunting me the same way I needed sleep to take me. Away from the feelings that were evoked with every thought that popped up.

‘What does one have to do to avoid such void, Lord if it is a sin please forgive me for I have no heart nor strength to stop this feeling’ I pleaded as I thought to myself sighing.

Thinking about that day made my toes curl. I laughed silently as I went down memory lane.

‘My mother is going to skin me alive if she finds out’.

I laughed silently ignoring the pang of pain that was trying to engulf me. I mean that woman hated seeing me happy.

'Wait! What if this is not true’ the words uttered to me like sirens. What if they were none other than a plan to destroy my life?

‘My mother would be happy seeing me crushed to the core I'm sure' I churned silently not trusting anything anymore.

Suddenly it was silent, like I was not there anymore. I looked at my chest that had been pounding but nothing, no thudding but pain that was growing slowly into hot larva.

Worry engulfed me.

‘There we go again’.

It was a familiar feeling. I silently cried wondering why that happened so often.

‘What if I’m really sick?’

I mean pain like that with no heart pounding was something I could not fathom, and they happened more often at times when I thought too much.

‘I wonder if I should call mother!’ but I felt the pain sweeping away giving me breath again. Signing with relief, I face-palmed myself trying to sleep.

‘Damn!’ It was really hard.

"Argh" I screamed to no one but myself.

'God will you save me from this countless dreadful nights, for once just a peaceful night I seek from you, just one good night from being haunted by the past' I prayed to God but to my dismay I was still up and my mind running thousand miles.

I let out a sad laugh as I wondered. 'Who am I kidding, who would listen to me! A waste, a dreadful sinner. I mean my life is so fucked up my mom literary calls me darkens and demon in her sleep. Wait why does she call me darkness anyways? Maybe I am darkness and demonic!' I continued contemplating, my worry growing.

I knew very well that this were all questions I couldn't get answers to, I mean I had been asking myself from the day my father disappeared; that was the day my mother started calling me darkness even during the day when she felt like it without purpose.

Shaking my head vigorously disapproving the thoughts that wanted to engulf me.

'There I go worrying about what my mother thinks, I mean who cares what that woman says, I mean she hates me so much I'm sure she hated me from birth' I thought sadly as I tried to remove all thoughts about my mother. I mean there were all bad and it gave me grief so yes I had to stop tormenting myself. It made me wonder though, that when the last time I was happy, I mean the torment had gone far too long I couldn’t think of any happy moments anymore.

"Argh" I grumbled as I continued to toss and turn.

The thoughts of my mother's resentment came crushing on me like a hurricane as I went down memory lane, a place I had escaped for so long........

FIVE YEARS AGO.....

Walking slowly, kicking stones I approached the door at my house. It was too quiet, it worried me. I touched the door knob slowly and was about to open when I heard cries muffled inside the house.

'What the heck!' I dashed into the house worried something had happened to my mother.

‘Yeah I loved and hated her, if you know what I mean’. I reached where the sounds came from, in the kitchen, only to find my mother singing in a high pitched voice, silently crying. I looked at her confused, I turned to the only man I knew had the guts of laying hands on her, Michael!

'Is he retarded or something?' I thought angrily as Michael smirked.

The man I loathed but could not remove for my mother's sake. I mean she was happy with him, or she just wanted him around and I had no right to dismiss him.

'I mean how do you say you're a Christian and have a boyfriend that beats you almost every week, treats you like shit and threatens your daughter. Talk about some Christians’ I shook my head in disbelief.

‘Lord I don’t know you but I'm sure this is definitely not you!' Suppressing the groan evoked in my chest I looked at my mother worryingly but to my surprise she just shouted at me like I had done something wrong.

"Why are you standing there like a retarded person?" she questioned in a high pitched voice baffling me.

'Well you read my mind just shift those words to the ones that deserve them, a little more to the left I mean!' Ignoring her outburst, I rambled in my head.

"Mother I swear if he laid his hands on you again I am..." giving Michael a deadliest look, showing him I was clearly speaking to him and not hiding it one bit.

Before I could utter my whole sentence my mother slapped me so hard I felt my whole body jolting with a thousand volts of electricity. That woman's slap was not only known for its disgraceful effect, but if she hit you hard enough I'm sure your mother which in this case is her, felt it too. I turned to her, giving her a hurtful look but only to be met by an angry piercing look. I gave her a confused look but she shrugged her shoulders. Deciding to let it go, I mean this was how they played with Michael so who cared.

'But why was I slapped again? Agh! Note to self, don’t ever try helping your mother if it involved Michael'. I shook my head disapprovingly as I went to my room but not before Michael grabbed my hand. He always wanted to have the last word, an upper hand I called it. I jerked it back forcefully giving him the deadliest look that could split him apart, he just ignored me. I rushed into my room but not before I heard him muttering

"Demon, Darkness"

'Well there goes the choir' I left them as I continued making my way up.

‘I mean why I should care if people decide to call me such weird meaningless names’ I dreaded the day when I am left alone with him.

Sitting down contemplating, I heard my head’s heart beat thudding. I felt my temperature rising, my palms sweating. I didn’t even bother to worry why for I knew very well the sadness, hurt and disappointment that was slowly fading with my giving up. I wanted to do something but it was pointless. My head was spinning, I tried to shut down my emotions, a defense mechanism I had come to master after knowing Michael but it was no use, I felt every word cut deep into my soul like razor blades I wanted to hit something, or curse the world for bringing him around.

‘When will she realize he is not worth it?’ I wondered hating and feeling sad for my mother.

I was so angry I came back to the kitchen to fetch water to calm my nerves only to be met by a hockey stick. As I plopped down I seethed knowing very well who did it, I stood up ready to pounce but Michael bit me to it. He hit me again on the back, I felt my left shoulder going numb. All this time my mother was there acting like I do not exist.

I looked at her, I wondered why her troubles, her unhappiness troubled me more than what Michael was doing to me at that moment. I was disappointed in her. I wanted to scream at her so she wakes up from her dream but her face just took all my strength away.

‘Why is her happiness heavy on me? Why can’t I just focus on myself and forget about her. Why can’t I just let someone else carry her burdens for me?’ I wanted so bad not to care but I couldn’t. I turned around as I felt another pang of pain in my back.

‘Bastard hit me again.

"What the flying..."I couldn’t finish my sentence as I cried with pain as he hit me hard on my arm making it numb. Before I knew it my mother's backhand met my face.

"You do not curse in a house of God" she burst like it was a new theme.

I froze. I looked at my mother. She looked at me scared like I was going to hit her, but in truth I wasn’t. I was just disappointed at her. I touched where she hit me and looked at her again. My eyes were a bit stingy I wanted to cry. Not because I felt pain from their beating but rather the fact that I was disappointed she couldn’t realize the damage they were doing.

'Seriously! A house of God?' I mean I wasn’t expecting it.

‘There are time we call God but this one is none of them’ I looked at them both sadly. I felt nothing but sadness for them. They were so hung up on each other they were motivated by obliviousness and stupidity it was saddening for an elder, especially to people I was supposed to look up to. I didn’t mind though, I just shook my head and dismiss their doings, it was pointless to speak, they were hopeless.

They would always gang up on me, when she was angry at Michael and could not express it, and Michael angry but not angry enough to be hitting her but me. My mother looked at me angrily ready to pounce again but decided against it.

"You worthless peace...." my mother spat but decided to leave to her room as she shook her head and left me to fend for myself as Michael finished her muttering.

"...peace of shit. Stay down you abomination of a child, that is where you belong". I looked at my mother who had disappeared in her room, then back at Michael with the most threatening look I could muster. In as much as I didn’t mind their doings I sure as hell wasn’t about to take bullshit from him. I remembered I couldn't do it again, not with my mother in anyways.

Beat him to a pulp I mean! I had done it before when he tried to sexually harass me a month ago while my mother was at work. I finally had a black belt in karate, and my mother's hatred from that day grew stronger after hearing the endeavors of me and Michael. Well not the whole story, but the part where I beat him up. I mean what was she thinking, that I would remain a child forever? I was so embarrassed and had so much hatred for her because one of the neighbors who saw the whole thing decided to tell her and she continued to spread rumors around church members telling them I'm the cause of her unhappiness, and that I wanted Michael.

‘Such idiotic way of expressing yourself, without standing up to the real truth’ I thought remembering some of her church members cursing at me when I was passing them.

Lifting myself up slowly whiles Michael moved around the table. I looked at my mother who was back in the kitchen flinching at Michael's kisses.

‘Why is he still around?’ I mean there was practically nothing between them.

Shaking my head strongly, Michael saw my reaction and moved about to hit me again but I ducked and he missed, pissed off he raised his hand again but was stopped by my now unwavering still body. I was fed up of being treated like nothing. He was kind of scared but he got the advantage every time my mother was around, he would continue his assault and extend it to my mother. He was about to grab my neck and I couldn’t stop him, or maybe I was going to stop him. I mean I didn’t want to disrespect my mother but I sure as hell wasn’t about to be a punching bag that night. My mother saw this as time to break the fight knowing very well where it was leading to, she called Michael for dinner.

'Saved by dinner!' last time we went for it the whole house was messed up, when my mother came that day after me beating Michael, she found the whole place trashed. I guess she did not want it to repeat itself.

‘Oh and dinner was meant for Michael only now! Talk about hypocritical acts!’

I was ready to pounce no matter what my mother said though. Yes I did not want to disrespect her but I was done playing their sick game. That day I was tired from training, coach had been hard on us, so I was definitely not in the mood for his escapades. I mean the moment Michael stepped into our lives he had been nothing but troublesome.

'A man-child that needed a little bit of discipline' I thought as I looked at him up and down, hating everything he stood for.

I remember how it all started. A year after my father left, Michael moved in with us. Although it took five years of Michaels devil schemes, I had decided to join karate and visit doctors for appointments for therapy, that's another story for another day though!

It was worth it. For a twelve-year-old child during that time I was proud of the person I had become. I survived, that all that mattered to me.

‘A whole five years in purgatory of Michael’ I thought fixing myself ready to leave them be.

It was something I did not want to go through ever again. Of course he would come from time to time back then when I was still in training but it was better, I could fight him off and sometimes I was able to stop him, with the help of my mother being around of course. I would shriek and fight him off but when she wasn't we would fight to a point he would beat me so bad to get way with his monstrosity.

'I will get better, I will grow' I therupitized myself from time to time when I remembered what I was going through.

I sat down in my bedroom carpet trying to control my anger as my mind went further down memory lane, I did not want to remember but once my mind had a glimpse it was hard to stop.