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Barbed

「逃げて」

  It’s just a game you told me. Like how when I was a child and we played tag together. I remember the same exhilarating feeling of adrenaline filling my body as I ran as fast as my legs could take me. Those moments were too short-lived.

As I ran from you the last time we spoke, you placed something in my hand, but my body trembled too much and a stubborn stone caught my foot, causing me to drop it while struggling to regain my balance. Just what did you place in my hand?

You were supposed to be behind me. We were supposed to escape together. I try not to think about it, but it seems the more I flee, the more I fall deeper into these thoughts.

From time to time, I think of what you think must’ve become of me. You were always so proud of the child you had raised and invested so much love in. You had once joked about me becoming a doctor, but I was quick to say that would never happen. I remember telling you about how fascinated I had become with stones I’d find around the yard. Did you think I’d become a gemologist? I feel like I’ve let you down, but I know that you would never say it. You would’ve never let me feel as if I were anything less than your perfect ray of sunshine.

So how would you feel to know that I have yet to sleep soundly through the night in over 15 years? To see sunken in eyes that lackluster for the fine things that life has to offer? To witness my struggles when feeling grass crunch underneath my toes when I walk during the night? I have let you down.

I am still stuck in that night, the last night you and I had exchanged words.

Are you proud of me, mommy? I ran.

I ran as fast as I could away from you.

Away from him.

I ran so fast that I lost what you gave me.

It was so dark but the moon was gracious enough to offer some bit of light for my journey. I often think about how you looked at me that day. You forced a smile to ease me, though your eyes betrayed just how petrified you were in those moments. Your voice was timid as you told me to go, just barely above a whisper. You knew what would happen if he heard us.

And so I ran. And I fell. And I ran again.

I ran until I reached exactly where you told me to go before I dropped to my knees and dug. I still remember the feeling of grit and mud sinking underneath my nail bed. To this day, I can’t play in the mud or dig for stones. I could hear your screams of agony, but I did as you said, mother. I continued digging until I could barely squeeze through the hole I made for myself. You wouldn’t believe the fear that set in as the leg of my shorts got caught on the barbed wire fence.

As I was stuck, I allowed myself to look back once and only once. I couldn’t see much because it was too dark and I was much too frightened to process the world around me. In the end, I yanked with so much strength that I flew forward, though my leg received a long gash in the process.

I still have the scar to this very day. I still have the scars of that day to this very second.

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