Extended Weekly Snippets From: MEMOIRS OF A FORGOTTEN CHILD

For The Love Of Miss Isles

Excerpt #4 From: MEMOIRS OF A FORGOTTEN CHILD ebook by author Vie Cine

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Mommy found another job in another nursing home where again she disdain her Home Health Aid position. The position required Marie to be there earlier in the morning with the benefits of not working weekends. Funa's incapacity to watch over me properly and asunder her perverse daughter from me was over! My qualms over Dominic came to a halt, but I had bigger issues at hand. Mommy discovered a babysitter a few apartments down from her at our complex. A heavyset Haitian woman named Liza in her late thirties to early forties with mahogany skin and a strong animus for children. She was a fairly recent newlywed with a young child and baby. Her husband carried a particular persona, a very approachable and charismatic to most women. Mommy woke me up at the crack of dawn, 5:30 in the mornings on weekdays right after she practiced her daily hygienic routine and brewed tea on the stove. I hated waking up early. The sky illuminating darkness and the city stars also known as streetlights were still twinkling. The only thing that enabled me to get up out of bed was what Marie and I shared in common, her divine tea. Oh, and her arduously bum rushing me out of the bed we slept on. Her premium richness green tea could change your demeanor with one inhale. Mommy always had my clothes laid out every morning, my hair was done by her every Saturday evening, and she made tea for breakfast every morning with a piece of toasted bread waiting for my taste buds. All I needed to do was get up, wash up, and brush my teeth, but I did this robotically slowly.

Getting dress was a long and draining task but as soon as I was done I plopped my behind on the seat in front of Mommy. I, basking in the aroma of the early morning warmth, leisurely sipping the sweet admixture of ginger and cinnamon. I gleefully taking full bites of the soft buttery Haitian bread. Marie grabbed her purse, collected her togs, all the while squawking at me to hurry up. As usual I followed direction, tiredly and mostly fulfilled, I grabbed my backpack and headed to the door fully armed in winter gear to conquer the late fall weather. We walked to Liza's apartment where she answered the door half awake as well as ticked off. Marie informed Liza at what time the school van consistently came to pick me up to bring me to school. Liza admissibly heard Marie. Liza allowed me inside her apartment, passed the remote to me and sluggishly walked away into her bedroom. I sat in the darkness of her living room, around 6ish I turned the television on, entranced by the early morning cartoons. But then I discovered MTV, (M)usic (T)ele(V)ision. That's when I found out how the artists who sung radio hits looked like. The concept of a music video was foreign to me, but it captivated me. Songs like Faith Hill's "Breathe," Shania Twain's "You're Still The One," Madonna's "Music," and Faith Hill's "The Way You Love Me" all kept me fascinated. This became a routine for a while; eventually waking up in the mornings wasn't so strenuous.

I still took my slow time in the morning, but actually getting up didn't take a clamorous speech with forceful sheet tugs. Eventually, Liza swapped her decision to grant me the remote. For over an hour, I sat in the living room in the dark, battling to keep my eyes open. In the dark, my mind roamed just as it did in Mondy's house. Fighting the urge to cry, blocking the memories of the horrors Dominic inflicted. It's startling how something as organic and harmless as the dark can create a fictitious terror that only exists in the four corners of your mind. I slept with a night light since the rape, but it was day, no night light was near. I had to deal, deny, and escape all at the same time inside my mind. The last thirty minutes I sat looking at the vibrant sun anticipating school, anticipating meeting Miss Isles.

***

Especially Un-special But Special

My birthday falls on Mother's Day sometimes. Ironic isn't it? Considering the fact that Mommy wasn't so affectionate towards me, but Miss Isles remembered. Usually when other children's birthdays came up their parents celebrated with bringing a cake for the all the students to devour. The kid would feel like a king or queen for the entire day, grinning ear to ear because it was a very special day in addition to all the kids being extremely nice to them because they brought cake. Something about feeding people makes them kowtow to the provider. It was my birthday and I didn't care. It was an ordinary day for me because truth be told, Mommy never celebrated my birthdays. She did acknowledge that it was here, and so did I and that was just about it. I came to class to see a crowd full of cheesy children anticipating something grand. I had nothing. Left and right people wished me happy birthday without any sentimental value connected to it. I humbly replied with a slight smirking "Thank you." I mean what else could I say? Gee thanks for your fake endearment on my insignificant birthday which really signifies that I'm one more year older and closer to my death?

I played cool though my disappointment reined my face. Miss Isles had a sixth about these things and prepared to make her children feel special on those days when the ones who should care about them don't. She continued class as usual with the exception of acknowledging my birthday. I accepted her announcement with a slight head nod. She continued with the agenda for the day. I didn't make a peep; I sat quietly in my chair embracing my invisibility and physically trying to make my body smaller by lowering my head, crossing my arms, and lightly pushing my legs forward. After lunch Miss Isles again recognized my birthday, asking what I was doing and if I had gotten anything. I answered meekly and honestly "No." "Nothing." She searched in her desk and pulled out a baby doll, a Black baby doll with a pink onesie. I was ecstatic! The doll came with accessories like a bottle, a little bonnet just like a newborn and she was beautiful. My face lit up like 1000 matches; Miss Isles's smiled at my reaction. I thanked and hugged her. The class rejoiced in my thrilled expression. I sat back in my chair smirking. My body was relaxed, and my voice could be heard answering questions on the blackboard.

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