The Victim

Chapter One: The house


Heading home she once again breaks the speed limit. Luckily, that’s the least of our concerns, you know, since she’s a drunken murderer driving away after her hit-and-run. She’s freaking out, and I don’t like it. “Slow down, please.” I say, but she doesn’t respond. “Slow down!” I yell. She reacts and steps on the breaks, making me nearly fly out of the car. Then she resumes our shameful escape.

The guilt presses my stomach. I cannot breathe. “We have to turn ourselves in,” I finally say to break the silence. “It’s the right thing to do, we—” “No!” she interrupts me, shaking her head. “I won’t take the fall for this one. It doesn’t help anyone if we turn ourselves in.” She feels with her hand for a bottle of freedom vodka she has placed in the car.

“Are you f-wording kidding me!?” I scream indignant. “You want to drink now? After what you’ve done!?” She stays quiet and suckles her freedom vodka like a hungry baby. “Pull over. Pull the f-word over!” I demand. She obeys. I try to open the doors but they’re locked. “Let me out! Let me out!” I cry desperately. My heart races. I feel claustrophobic in the car. “Now, what we did, we did together,” she says calmly. “What!?” comes out of me. “No! No way! It was all you!”

I exit the car and stand with my hands on my knees, feeling the world spinning around me. She follows me. I throw up on the side of the road. “Now, you clean yourself up and go back inside that car or you and I will have a serious discussion.” she threatens me. “No!” I yell. “I saw what you did. I’m tired of you, taking out your crap on me… on all of us. I’m turning you in! You’re off to jail for a while, say the rest of your miserable…” but as I’m finishing, she pushes me, and I fall backward, hitting my head against the floor.

After an indefinite period of time, I wake up at the hospital with a monstrous headache. I try to scream but my throat is dry. The room I’m in is silent, dark and empty. I flail my arms around until I finally press the right button, and a nurse comes. While I’m anxiously drinking water she says “you were in an accident.” I nod, eager to tell her all about it.

“You fell while you were playing and hit your head against the floor. Luckily your mom brought you to us, and…” The nurse stops. I’m shaking my head, feebly saying “no, no, no.” “What’s wrong?” she asks me. “Is it the water, or—” “I didn’t fall, she pushed me!” I interrupt her. “She ran over that woman while she was deporting me for drugging the other kids, and I, I…” I struggle to explain myself, but it comes out as delusional. The nurse smiles condescendingly.

“Oh, I see you have quite the imagination. Yes, your mom mentioned you liked to read strange books…” she says it like it’s a disease or something, making me even angrier. “That b-word is not my mom!” I say threatening the nurse with my finger. Saying the b-word clearly triggers her, so she goes for the door. “Well, there’s a bible by your bed, and your mom will be her on the afternoon. Try to get some rest,” and she leaves.

But I don’t want to rest. I want to see mother locked up where she can’t hurt anyone anymore. I want to see her wither and die in a cell. I try to stand up but fall to the ground, hitting my knees. There I lay, defeated in silence. But I refuse to surrender. Summoning all my strength, I get up. With much pain I get dressed and leave before the nurse or mother come back. I head out for the police department that is nearby.

The bright sun hurts my eyes and head. How long have I been there? I can’t tell which day of the week it is. But I keep walking. People stare at me as I walk erratically toward the precinct near the hospital. There’s bustle inside. I walk up to a sort of counter and speak to an officer. “I am here to report a crime.”

The cop is amused and speaks to me like I’m eight. “And what crime is that sweetheart? The dog ate your homework?” I just ignore his remark and try to make my case. “Look, my mother, well, not my biological mother, ran over this, this woman the other day… or week, I’m not sure. Then she did something to her and she stopped, well, breathing. I, I tried to stop her, but she pushed me, and I fell, and I hurt my head, and…” as I touch my injury, I notice it’s bleeding.

“Are you ok?” the cop says, concerned. “What…?” I say, distracted. I begin to feel dizzy. Everything spins around me. I fall and hit the floor. A long nightmare later, I wake up in the hospital. The nurse is talking to mother, who carefully listens and offers her a cookie. A cookie! Finally the nurse leaves and I’m left alone with her. I fear for my life, so I grasp for the button to call the nurse and press it over and over. “Oh honey, it’s not even plugged,” mother says calmly. “But I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.” The creepiest thing is she smiles as she says this. Seriously, who is this woman?

“I know what you did, you won’t get away so easily,” I threaten her. “Look, I don’t know what you think happened, but the fall you took was pretty bad. Luckily you’re better now, and everything can go back to normal.” “Normal!? You f-wording killed a human being. In the Middle Ages they would’ve hung you by now.”

“I understand you’re upset. Your mind is playing tricks, everything is confusing, we’re not home… But please, try not to use that foul language.” That’s it, I simply look at her and remain quiet. There’s nothing I can say that will have an impact, so much I have understood by now. I’m futile.