Lying in bed I hear something familiar echoing in the depths of my mind. A sound I've heard many times before. Soft weeping from the heart of a little boy. A lonely boy, detached from the world. A boy in pain. A boy who's been locked away in a room for 15 years.
I close my eyes and walk through the chaotic mess of my mind. After a long while I reach the door where the little boy lies inside weeping. As I reach for the key something sharp shoots through my mind. The memories of him crying. The times when I was mentally breaking down I could hear him screaming for help deep down. It must be scary for him when my mind is running wild. Those nasty thoughts and impulses shaking up his small room. An overwhelming guilt floods my body. I take a deep breath and unlock the door. He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks up at me. We both stare at each other for some time.
"You look sad," he whispered.
"So do you," I said. He was sitting there with his arms around his knees while his back leaned against the wall.
"What's going on? Why does it hurt so bad again?" he said.
I stared at him, wondering if the truth would even make sense to him.
"We lost something very important to us," I said after some time.
He sat there with a strained look on his face. As if he was trying to imagine what could've been lost that would make us feel like this. After a moment he looked back up at me with a concerned look on his face.
"Did someone die again?" he asked.
The question ripped through me as memories of our grandmother flashed before my eyes. He could see the subtle pain in my eyes. He looked down at the floor ashamed that he brought it up. I could see the puffiness around his eyes from previously crying.
"Where'd she go?" He asked still looking at the floor.
"Who?"
"That girl," he said softly.
I didn't know what to say. A hole in my chest suddenly appeared. I tried to be as easy with him as possible. Perhaps for my own sake.
"She didn't go anywhere," I said.
He looked up at me then back at the ground. He could tell that it wasn't true.
"Is she coming back?" He asked.
"I don't think so," I said. My stomach was well below the ground.
"I never got to meet her"
"I know," I replied.
"Can you make her come back?" He asked looking back up at me. There was a seriousness in eyes.
"I don't think I can," I said. "I'm sorry."
"I don't feel safe here anymore. I miss when she was here. She made it pretty to look at in here."
Tears started to well up in his eyes again. I could see him struggling to keep his mouth from quivering. The hole in my chest had become a bottomless pit.
"It's not fair. She let her little girl out around you. She loved you that much. Didn't you love her?" His voice began to crack.
"With everything in me," I said sincerely.
"Then why didn't you let me out?" he yelled. "I wanted to come out too. I cared about her too. Why don't you ever let me out? I've been locked in here for so long," he said. His tears were rolling down his small face.
"I was protecting you," I said. "Did you forget what they did to you?"
He immediately stopped with fear on his face. He looked away from me. His crying now became silent as he looked at the wall. I felt horrible. Of course he didn't forget. How could he?
Even with that being said he is locked in here for his own protection. I thought it would be best that way. He didn't deserve to keep getting hurt.
"Are we going to be okay?" He asked after some time.
I paused for a minute.
"No," I said. The words came flatly out of my mouth.
He looked up at me. His expression shook me. I was expecting him to cry again or to look scared. He looked so tired. It broke my heart into pieces. He was only a little boy. I know he was expecting me to help him. He was expecting me to live a happy life so he could experience it too. But he also understood. And his acceptance of what I had told him had drowned me in guilt. I wasn't good enough. He deserved someone better than me to get him where he needed to be.
"If she comes back. Will you let me out?" He asked.
His head was hung low as he played with a curl over his forehead.
"I want her to love me too," he said.
Tears flooded my eyes now. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn't keep it together. I put my hands up to my face as I began to cry.
He got up from his spot and walked over to me. I had fallen to my knees. He wrapped his arms around me. I could feel the hot stream of tears on his face.
"I miss her a lot," he said.
"I miss her too. I miss her every minute of every day. If she comes back I promise I'll let you see her all the time . I'm sure she'd love you."
He looked at me and smiled. His genuine smile made me feel so relaxed. The thought of her seeing it as well was bittersweet. I knew the reality of the situation. But sitting here with him talking about her made me happy. If happy ever after existed they both deserved it. The only question that remained was if it was I who could give it to them.
I close my eyes and walk through the chaotic mess of my mind. After a long while I reach the door where the little boy lies inside weeping. As I reach for the key something sharp shoots through my mind. The memories of him crying. The times when I was mentally breaking down I could hear him screaming for help deep down. It must be scary for him when my mind is running wild. Those nasty thoughts and impulses shaking up his small room. An overwhelming guilt floods my body. I take a deep breath and unlock the door. He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks up at me. We both stare at each other for some time.
"You look sad," he whispered.
"So do you," I said. He was sitting there with his arms around his knees while his back leaned against the wall.
"What's going on? Why does it hurt so bad again?" he said.
I stared at him, wondering if the truth would even make sense to him.
"We lost something very important to us," I said after some time.
He sat there with a strained look on his face. As if he was trying to imagine what could've been lost that would make us feel like this. After a moment he looked back up at me with a concerned look on his face.
"Did someone die again?" he asked.
The question ripped through me as memories of our grandmother flashed before my eyes. He could see the subtle pain in my eyes. He looked down at the floor ashamed that he brought it up. I could see the puffiness around his eyes from previously crying.
"Where'd she go?" He asked still looking at the floor.
"Who?"
"That girl," he said softly.
I didn't know what to say. A hole in my chest suddenly appeared. I tried to be as easy with him as possible. Perhaps for my own sake.
"She didn't go anywhere," I said.
He looked up at me then back at the ground. He could tell that it wasn't true.
"Is she coming back?" He asked.
"I don't think so," I said. My stomach was well below the ground.
"I never got to meet her"
"I know," I replied.
"Can you make her come back?" He asked looking back up at me. There was a seriousness in eyes.
"I don't think I can," I said. "I'm sorry."
"I don't feel safe here anymore. I miss when she was here. She made it pretty to look at in here."
Tears started to well up in his eyes again. I could see him struggling to keep his mouth from quivering. The hole in my chest had become a bottomless pit.
"It's not fair. She let her little girl out around you. She loved you that much. Didn't you love her?" His voice began to crack.
"With everything in me," I said sincerely.
"Then why didn't you let me out?" he yelled. "I wanted to come out too. I cared about her too. Why don't you ever let me out? I've been locked in here for so long," he said. His tears were rolling down his small face.
"I was protecting you," I said. "Did you forget what they did to you?"
He immediately stopped with fear on his face. He looked away from me. His crying now became silent as he looked at the wall. I felt horrible. Of course he didn't forget. How could he?
Even with that being said he is locked in here for his own protection. I thought it would be best that way. He didn't deserve to keep getting hurt.
"Are we going to be okay?" He asked after some time.
I paused for a minute.
"No," I said. The words came flatly out of my mouth.
He looked up at me. His expression shook me. I was expecting him to cry again or to look scared. He looked so tired. It broke my heart into pieces. He was only a little boy. I know he was expecting me to help him. He was expecting me to live a happy life so he could experience it too. But he also understood. And his acceptance of what I had told him had drowned me in guilt. I wasn't good enough. He deserved someone better than me to get him where he needed to be.
"If she comes back. Will you let me out?" He asked.
His head was hung low as he played with a curl over his forehead.
"I want her to love me too," he said.
Tears flooded my eyes now. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn't keep it together. I put my hands up to my face as I began to cry.
He got up from his spot and walked over to me. I had fallen to my knees. He wrapped his arms around me. I could feel the hot stream of tears on his face.
"I miss her a lot," he said.
"I miss her too. I miss her every minute of every day. If she comes back I promise I'll let you see her all the time . I'm sure she'd love you."
He looked at me and smiled. His genuine smile made me feel so relaxed. The thought of her seeing it as well was bittersweet. I knew the reality of the situation. But sitting here with him talking about her made me happy. If happy ever after existed they both deserved it. The only question that remained was if it was I who could give it to them.
