Mama Knows Best – Chapter 1
Mama Knows Best
“Ugh…”
My ears buzzed, louder and louder. A headache joined it and amplified the pain tingling through my body. My neck, arms, back, and legs all ached. Pain pulsed through me. That was good, though. Pain brought me closer to reality. I tried to move, but that made everything hurt more. I growled with discomfort, blinking lights bothered my eyelids.
“W-where am I?” I mumbled, dizzy. A metallic sound intensified, along with frantic muttering and music playing in the distance. I opened my eyes, but the harsh light burned them, and I could see a blur of the things surrounding me.
I groped around to check what was beneath me. Stairs. I was lying at the bottom of some stairs. My inner voice and the few concrete items I recognized made it clear that something bad had happened. I must have fallen. I looked around and noticed that a door stood in the entryway across from me. Someone was there, vigorously trying to open it from the inside.
A wave of desperation took over me, fed by fear and pain. That didn’t feel right, at all. It felt dangerous.
“I need to do SOMETHING, or else…”
My heart raced as I cursed myself. Although my instincts and intuition seemed sharp as knives, my memories had abandoned me, and I couldn’t ascertain who that could be or where I was. Scared, confused, and unable to move fast, I had no choice but to trust my feelings and take action. Under those circumstances, any action was better than none.
“All that noise… Make it stop?”
My vision adjusted, and I could distinguish more of the scene. The tiny figure turned and pulled the doorknob, banging the door. The noise grew even louder.
I moved my hips and took a deep breath, but immediately regretted doing so. There was an excruciating pain coming from my right side, right below my breast. My ribs. I broke my ribs. That made things even worse.
I tried to keep still, massaged my temples, and blinked my eyes. Each time I did, my vision cleared a little more. The lights that once bothered me came into focus. They were green, red, and white. Christmas lights. The bulbs had a sad, dull twinkle to them. As if they were dancing their last dance. The strange figure at the door breathed in rhythm to the eerie background music that sounded like a broken record playing the same song over and over again.
“WHO are you? What do you want?!”
More silence. It made me feel wary and uncomfortable. It was time to try harder. I moved my hips up a little and rested my arms beside me. I let out a grunt. My ribs made themselves known again and hurt so badly that bile rose from my stomach. That was when the step I lay on shook and a loud thud echoed from below me.
“What was that?” I raised my head and leaned on my elbows, trying to get up.
“M-mama?”
The thud continued, but those words were the key to melting my heart and making all the rest fade. Of all the things a fall made me forget, how could I forget that? Guilt struck me, like a spear piercing my soul.
I was a mom, and that was my son.
“Mama, are you awake?” he inched toward me with small steps.
I could see more clearly now, and it made my heart ache. Everything felt more emotional once I realized Carol of the Bells was the song playing repeatedly. The little boy wore red sneakers, nice jeans, and a long-sleeved cotton white shirt. It should have been a great outfit to enjoy Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, he now looked like a mess. His cuffs were filthy from cleaning his tears and runny nose. It hit me he had been crying his heart out.
“My poor, poor baby boy. How could I ruin such a cheerful day for him?” I forced my palms against the floor, pushing my torso up so I could sit, and winced in pain. The movement lit a fire my right ankle. I was wounded there too—probably a sprained.
“Don’t!” he rushed to stop me and paused for a minute, his eyes wide open. His small hand reached for me, as if he sensed something bad was seconds away.
“Don’t get up, mama. Y-you fell from the stairs and hit your head.”
As he kneeled beside me, I felt both embarrassed and proud. I was devastated to be the cause of so much trouble to my boy, who was no older than ten. No child should see a parent like this. On the other hand, my chest felt warm, because he seemed so responsible and caring.
I guess I did a good job with him, after all.
“I’m sorry, buddy. Mommy was worried and scared.” I rested my head on the step again, and reached out to touch his arm, which he immediately avoided.
“Oh. What’s wrong, dear?”
His eyes became teary again.
“Did Mama scare you? When she yelled?”
He nodded and sniffled, cleaning his face with his dirty sleeve.
If I show him there’s not much to worry about, he’ll calm down a little. It was the best I could come up with, and it should buy some time until I could put myself back up.
“But I’m feeling all better, buddy. See? I’m all in one piece, it’s no—”
The words died in my mouth. I reached for the back of my head and felt my hair. It was a entangled sticky, wet mess. I pulled my hands away and the redness on my fingers made me feel like fainting again. It was bad, after all.
“You s-should stay still, mama,” he said with deep fear in his eyes.
The headache and pain jolted through my body again. I grimaced and clenched my fists, biting my tongue not to scream. There must be something I can do to get out of this situation. Maybe we should call someone…
My stomach revolved again. Pain, dread, and fear fought for dominance inside me. The thought of letting someone in the house made me shiver as if some sort of gruesome evil was waiting on the other side of that door, ready to drag me to hell and torture me forever. Or worse, take my boy away from me. And that was the most painful thing I could think of.
Fear won as loud footsteps came from the porch. And that damn carol played for the hundredth time felt like nails on a chalkboard.
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what, Mama?”
The clatter of footsteps seemed like a ghost battalion that marched in circles around the house. I could see their shadows lurking through the curtains. Their eerie breath was so tangible my bones froze.
Headlights beamed through the door glass. Again, my instincts pointed out that those lights weren’t leading us to safety or any good. I moved a little, getting ready to do whatever it took to protect us, or even…
“Mama, please, don’t move.”
“No, honey, listen. It’s getting dangerous. We need to go upstairs.” I pleaded.
“Please, please stay still, Ms. Graham”, he whined. His hands flew to cover his mouth.
“ What did you call me?” I demanded. A reckless fury bubbled to the surface, and I tightened the hold I had on his wrist. Mine tasted foul. The thudding and banging below the floor got faster and louder.
“NO! Ms.…Mama! M-mama, please!” The boy whimpered, tears flooding his eyes again, as he tried to break away, but my grip was like a vice around his wrist.
“Fire Department, is anyone inside?” A male voice called from the other side of the door.
The adrenalin pumped through my body and allowed me to ignore all the hurt at once. I sat and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, jostling him and screaming.
“Who is that? What did you do!”
“Mama, stop, please!” the kid screamed.
“Why did you call them?” I said through clenched teeth and shook him. “Answer me!” I yelled even louder.
“We’re coming in!” A male voice said. the door shook and vibrated, and the glass cracked.
The more he cried, the more they kicked. Noise from below got louder, urgent in their booms. The more I screamed and lost control, the more my nails dug into his frail arms.
The door swung open and slammed against the wall. Cold air gushed through the frame. Firefighters rushed through the threshold. One man grabbed me by the arm and pried my hands off the boy, separating me from my son.
“I’m sorry, please don’t take him from me!” I writhed. The men took hold of my arms and legs, tipping me to one side, and slid something underneath me. It was hard and unyielding. The rip of Velcro and the pressure of straps around my body ignited panic.
“What are you doing? Leave me alone, you bastards!” I kicked and screamed, fought with every ounce of strength I had left, but it was useless. They overpowered me and lifted me onto a stretcher. The boy sobbed somewhere over to my left. I turned my head to look at him. He stood there clutching one of the firefighters by the legs.
My poor little man… what have I done? A cold needle pierced my skin and slid inside my veins, as an uninvited liquid slithered under my skin.
“We administered a mild sedative, ma’am. It’s for your safety and the boy’s, so we can check your wounds.” The first firefighter assured.
The kid stared at me as the forced relaxation kicked in. With the lights on, I could see his cute, round face better. His cheeks were pink, freckles dotted his upturned nose. He was so adorable. Tears blurred my vision. I was ashamed for acting so unreasonable.
“Hey, Mr. Firefighter. Is Mama secure?” He asked in a low voice, inching closer.
“Are you the tough guy that called us? What’s your name?” A woman to my right asked.
“Josh.”
“It’s nice to meet you Josh. You’re mama’s secure. She’ll be OK,” another man answered.
The little boy analyzed the straps that contained me on the stretcher. Once satisfied, he sighed and let more tears drain from his eyes. He grabbed the older firefighter by the sleeve, his voice pleading.
“C-can you release my real mama now, so I can stop calling Ms. Graham my mama?”
Josh’s words snapped in my head and the events that led me to this house, crippled at the bottom of the stairs, came rushing back. I bared my teeth at him, let out a fierce cackle, and lunged for him.
Editor: Michelle Naragon
Who is Ms. Graham and where is the real mom? I’m looking forward to reading the next chapters.
Thank you for your comment!
I hope you keep enjoying the story as it unfolds! Stay tuned! 🙂