A long car ride

Fast lights

Long nights

Car rides where I lose my time

She grabs my hand and squeezes

Smiles softly

Says I love you through puffs of smoke that fly out the window

I have the same color hair as her

Dark and Brown

And we share the same voice

...maybe that’s why I don’t like to use it that much

We are stopped at the gas station on the edge of town

Kaarrraaaa

Kaaarrraaaa

I love you high as the sky

You’re my baby girl

Yes, Yes you’re all mine

Her face comes close to mine as she bends down to look through the passenger side window

She makes out with it so I can see the inside of her mouth

And I laugh so hard that I forget she was supposed to have picked me up 7 hours ago

We are racing down the highway

Probably going bout’ 75

She swerves the car with my brother in the back

It’s been a bad night for her

Another argument with one of her boyfriends

The one she left me for at 11 years old

So it’s another yeager bomb

Hidden in a coffee mug

I had to make it for her

I had to...

And shit it’s been a while for me

But I’m praying in a way that I haven’t since that night

That night her face crashed through the window

Blood dripping

She’s no longer smiling or squeezing my hand

She grunts as his fingers twist around her hair

I scream and scream

My voice extending from my chest like a coarse piece of sandpaper

Please stop

Please leave her alone

But his dance of fists and shoving is not over

And I’m scared, I’m so goddamn scared

So I pick my little brother up and run to the bathroom

I put him in the bathtub and open the door once more

Just enough to raise the voice that I know he won’t listen to

Still begging him to stop hurting my mommy

So I start to pray, pray that God will come down and make it stop

The anxiety pushes me to hysterical crying

And I can’t catch my breath

I hear them out there, hear the screams

Footsteps come closer and then fade out

I look at my brother and see that he is okay

He isn’t crying, he doesn’t know what’s going on

He’s just happy to see me

Happy to play with some leftover bathtub toys

And I think to myself if he can be okay then I can be okay

I think to myself, Kara you are not alone

Everything’s okay, Everything's okay

I close my eyes for a second but it feels like a lot longer than that

In the dark I think

I think of being back at home just a couple of days ago with my grandparents and uncles

My grandma tells me to go wake everyone up

And with a mischievous grin I climb the creaky staircase

I fling open the doors and jump on everyone’s bed and then hop back out before they can swat at me or yell at me or tickle me

And I laugh as I race from room to room

They are my uncles by blood but I call them brother

I’m wearing a soft pink dress with white and brown bunnies on the trim

Once they are all ready to go I do a quick spin in my dress for everyone while they ooh and ahhh

Then Nick, the youngest of them, picks me up and squeezes me tight, smelling of cologne

Everything is lit in a golden hue with the rising sun

We crowd into a green van that takes us to church

Inside the large stone building it is warm and I love hearing my grandma sing along to the music

I don’t know much about what they are saying but I don’t mind going to church

It means we are all together and it means playing with my brothers and trying not to get caught

My favorite kind of game

Afterwards the sun is bright and the skies are blue as we head home

My grandma takes out the biscuits and on tippy toes I take out the eggs

At seven years old I still need the stepping stool to crack them into the orange mixing bowl

We all sit down and I drink orange juice as my brothers tell us about their wild saturday night Filled with the latest high school and college drama about who kissed who

And my grandma groans telling them to set a better example

While at the head of the table my grandpa just laughs

Some jokes that they tell I understand and some I don’t, but I always laugh either way

Then we all sit in the living room watching Harry Potter or Indiana Jones

Some fall asleep

Some stare intently at the screen

I would sit in someone’s lap or offer back massages for money or play quietly with my dolls

We were a unit, a solid pack, a family

There was so much love and care there

I open my eyes to yellow, washed out light and I take a deep breath

The police come and I walk out to see their flashing lights

The next thing I see is a picture of me and Mickey Mouse at Disneyland on the floor

The glass is broken in one corner and stained with blood

I look to my left to see my mother sitting on the couch with her face in her hands, sobbing

Like a rope tied between us my mother pauses in her grief, sensing a tug, sensing me

I watch her back straighten and her head slowly turn to look my way

When her eyes meet my own, her face crumples, and I see her mouth form my name

Her pale arms shake as they open

A silent plea that they need something to hold and that, that something is me

I run over to her and let her hold me as tightly as she wants

I never utter a word and the tears are gone

My mom has enough for the both of us

I retreat into myself, my face and body becoming nothing more than a 4 ft barrier between herself and the awaiting abyss of her somber racing thoughts

I feel so different from the little trouble making girl in the pink dress I was just a couple of days earlier

I can’t let my own brokenness show because my mom needs me

It’s her turn to cry

I don’t know how I knew that at such a young age but I just knew

Just like my mom’s eyes knew exactly where and when to find me in the madness a few seconds ago

With blood dripping down her chin, onto her shirt and in my hair

My eyes become nothing but windows

Now everything is like being underwater

The fear and sadness I have pushed aside

Pushed down

I feel nothing

I am nothing

Nothing but a receptor to my mother’s own feelings

She’s the only thing I can feel

...can’t explain it, but Kara, the being that was and is Kara went silent and all that was left was my mother

She tells the police her story

My brother I had to leave in the bathroom for someone else to find

My arms were too weak from keeping my shit together to lift him out of the bathtub

I’m back in the swerving car

God still hasn’t come down to make the bad things stop but I know it’s not his fault...

Just like it isn’t my grandparents fault for not knowing what my mother put me through during my monthly weekend visits

I never told

My voice could never speak the words

Could never even manage to whisper them

Because a child isn’t supposed to fear its mother

At least that’s what mine screamed at me as I hid on the staircase at the age of 5

Looking at her from between the wooden spindles

Her face a sneer, her hand raised, the word bitch escaping as a hiss

I look over at her now as she rolls all the windows down

A madness in her movements

Like a drowning woman flailing

The cold wind pushes into the car

My brother starts to cry

My mom cranks the music up

She’s lost in her swirling darkness of ice, wind, smoke and angry notes that spiral down

The moon her only true lover

The liquor her only true constant

The drugs a dirty secret she tried to keep locked behind bathroom doors

...my little fists never could pound through those sticky doors

Looking at my mother throughout the years I squashed down my fear of her because I thought it was wrong

Thought I was wrong

Thought everything was always my fault

I didn’t know that when I pushed my fear away I was pushing my voice away too

Pushing myself away

The car stops

My mom rolls out

And the fear comes bubbling up my throat

As usual I swallow it down

It tastes like acidic bile and cigarettes

In it’s place anxiety curls its way through my bowels

I know that something else is coming but by now the praying in my head has stopped

I look back at my little brother whose face is tear streaked

I touch his hand and he’s so cold

Colder than any 6 year old child should have to be

I hear noises coming from the house she entered so I turn to look

Soft smiles, watery eyes, stumbling steps, yellow and blackened teeth

My skin crawls and something else starts to form in the pit of my stomach

Watching them come closer, the rage starts to pour into my soul

Without another thought I crawl to the back off the car where my brother is and shield him with my body

He doesn’t have to see the monsters of apathy too

The ones that are only looking for a “good time”

My teeth ache and threaten to push forward into a sneer when the first one sits himself beside me

The rage takes ahold and provides warmth and comfort

I never knew giving into such a dark emotion would feel so good but it does

I’m no longer the fearful five year old or the numb seven year old

The rest climb into the car

The volume is turned up again

The smoke is passed along

The high pitched laughing becomes the chorus to my mother’s pain of not being loved

The cold wind is back and I take my sweater off and tuck my brother in with it

Next I wrap my body around him as much as I can

To protect him from the cold and the others

I don’t trust them and I’ve never trusted my mother

I think to myself “nobody but me is allowed to touch my brother”

I think “he is mine”

So when the guy next to me leans over to talk to me I don’t respond

He makes jokes, offers me a piece of gum, but I am no fool

I see the deadness in his eyes

I stare at him and let the rage show

Let it seethe out of my entire being

A silent warning since people don’t listen when little girls talk

When they say no

In this place of fury, of emotion I don’t need words to make myself known

My language has no sound

And when I use it nobody can talk over it or cover it up

He turns away and ignores me for the rest of the ride

We get to the white house in a cul de sac in independence

My arms are numb and aching

Aching from the cold and aching from holding onto my brother so tightly

I did my job though

In my arms he sleeps soundly, warm and safe

They all stagger out of the car

Leaving me and my brother behind

The rage is still with me but I’m so tired

I just want my mom but even though she’s just inside the house, she’s gone

Gone is the woman who used to play criss cross applesauce on my back so I could fall asleep at night

Gone is the woman who used to sing Big Girls Don’t Cry with me at the top of our lungs

Gone is the woman who would light dozens of candles and have floor picnics with me

Gone is the woman who took bubble baths with me teaching me about the rules of belly button world

Gone is my late night confidante who would eat ice cream with me on my grandma’s roof

Gone is the woman who loved me

Gone is my mom

...was she ever there to begin with if she kept doing this to me?

I unbuckle my brother from his car seat

Pick his skinny body up, mostly just bones and carry him to the house

I stop at the entryway after shutting the door… I don’t know which direction is safest

I’ve never been here before

The rest of my rage gives way to some blind panic and the tears start to form in the corners of my eyes

I-I don’t know what to do anymore

I-I-I...I feel so alone...I c-c-can’t breathe, not again...not again

I c-c-c-NOOO

No

Enough Kara, some part of me says

It tells me to look down, Look at Noah, my little brother

I follow my own directions and see his sleeping face

He looks so peaceful

As peaceful as I felt every time my grandma braided my hair

As peaceful as I felt on the walks I used to take with my grandpa

As peaceful as I felt falling asleep in my brothers arms

I close my eyes and let all inner sound and feeling empty out

Even the rage

I become numb for a second, almost vessel-like

I can breathe again

In and out Kara

In---and---out

I open my eyes and head for the stairs leading to the basement

Away from the loud voices down the hall

In the basement there are holes in the walls where the house’s mustard stuffing bulges out

There’s a girl watching tv

She looks at me and I ask her how old she is

She’s younger than me and her mom is the owner of this house

I ask her where I can go to lay my brother down

She points down the hall and then asks if I want to hang out

I look down at my feet, suddenly feeling some guilt and say maybe next time

Then I turn and walk down the hall, my brother seeming a lot heavier than before

I find a dark bedroom

Turning on the lights I see there’s a bed in the corner and some of my mom’s things

Hmmm…. so this is where she stays when she gets tired of him

Or when she just wants to get high

I set my brother down and then lock the door

I turn the lights off even though the dark is scary

But at least when it’s dark I can pretend I’m some place else

I lay down next to my brother and his little body immediately curls into mine

I allow it for once because I need the contact too

I wake up the next morning and go to school late

Do the math problems they assign me

Stare out the window

Eat lunch

Get the A

Repeat

All the days of my life have been nothing but long car rides

Headed to unknown destinations

Sometimes my mom was the one driving

Her pain and darkness swerving the car

Sometimes my grandparents were

Their love and light keeping the car from crashing

Sometimes the school institution was

With its paradoxical mix of tough loving care and outright oppression

And now finally, at 18 years old, it’s my turn to take the wheel

I paid attention to how those around me drove

Some used their turn signals, some didn’t

Some went slow, some went fast

But I think I’m ready now, I think I got this

It’s my turn to drive