I loved when she laughed, she always tried to stay happy around me, but her laugh was the best of rewards. Momma always smiled, but it wasn't always real. Her beautiful green eyes often held pain and sadness, and I hated it. Eyes that beautiful should glow with happiness, but hers were always kind, but never truly happy. I look up into the soft hazel and green swirl of her eyes, still giggling and she smiles at me ruffling my hair playfully. Her eyes always turned more green in the winter, and now with autumn nearing its end they were striking against her soft fair skin. She was so very beautiful, her soft caramel curls that hung down her back, small dainty nose, fair skin, and the eyes that despite their lack of joy were so kind and deep. They reminded me of the forest, a mix of green and hazel.

"Will you wait here while momma goes to freshen up?" She asks softly, leaning back up, her hand discreetly going back to her ribs.
"Yes momma." I answer and she smiles.
"You're such a good boy, my sweet little Xavier." She coos, nudging my chubby cheek softly and I smile up at her, watching her as she limps towards the washroom.

-------------------------------------------------------
"I'm so sorry baby." She mumbles gently, dabbing gently with the warm damp cloth at the bruise on the corner of my lip.
"It's okay momma." I answer, it was never her fault, his actions couldn't be blamed on her. He was a sick bastard who relentlessly abused his wife and child, that wasn't her fault. She was a victim of his cruel torment, my fellow inmate per say.

A few nights ago, after a long shift he'd stumbled in completely drunk, so drunk that he'd attempted to pin his sheriffs badge on to my chest, although even intoxicated he was a sick bastard, he'd ripped half my shirt. Trying to pin the badge onto my bare skin, before my mom had led him away from me. With the promise of scotch. He'd looked as if he'd be out for hours, we'd packed our bags quietly, escaping in the dead of the night, but it just so happened one of his sick friends had been patrolling that night, in the cruiser. He'd caught us, throwing us into the back of his dirty cruiser, and I'd earned myself a hard punch in the face when I'd ripped his wandering hands off of my mother.

"I'd really hoped the bruise would have faded by your birthday, you do always heal so quickly, it must have been worse than I thought. Your fourteenth birthday and you go to school with a busted lip and a black eye. My poor sweet baby, you don't deserve this at all." She says, tears filling her beautiful green eyes, always so sober, filled with sorrow but so very beautiful, like the depths of the forest. She was always a bit more emotional after our attempts of escape, she was a strong spirit even after years of torture she refused to give up.
"You don't deserve this either, but I'm going to get you out of it one day, and I am going to build you a gigantic beautiful mansion. Fit for a queen. We'll be so happy." I tell her, and she smiles, raking her slender calloused fingers through my hair gently.
"I know you will Xavier, I know you will." She says pressing a soft kiss to my head.

"Now my sweet little chef, let's get baking, there's no birthday without a cake, and I wouldn't exactly mind if you helped me cook. Personally I think you're getting better then me." She says making my eyes widen as I look up at her, we always cooked together, it was my absolute favourite. She was so very calm while cooking, far away from all the problems. Spiritually we were free from our cage as we cooked, reciting and correcting recipes together, giggling as things went wrong, grinning at each other when our new additions were welcome. Even arguing over silly little things like spices, it was all wonderful. She'd sway gently as she hummed, when he hadn't been home, she'd even be as cheerful as to put a tape into her record player, and spin me around as we worked around the kitchen. Although recently it wasn't me doing the spinning, physically I took after him, I was already taller than her. Outside of our little cooking ventures there was no escape, he was part of the possible help, the head of the police department. His perverted friends all in various positions of authority, there was nobody to call for help. Nobody to rely on to help us escape, his reputation was impeccable, people thought of him as the fair handsome sherif with the beautiful wife and son. But appearances were so very deceptive. We were stuck nobody would believe us, nobody would free us, he'd made sure of that.

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