I feel the weight of H on my lap as I stroke his soft curly hair while he softly snores. The stench of alcohol burns my nose, recently strong smells brought on an intense sense of nausea. I wasn't feeling like myself but I had pushed away the thought to tend to figure out H. I didn't have much time to care for myself much less think about myself.
I was consumed with piecing together H and Harry and how they correlate. How did H come to be? I had wrecked my brain coming up with theories and pushing H's boundaries to the point of him becoming violent.
I cried in H's arms for a long time yesterday, we didn't say anything to each other as I held onto him. I repeatedly told him that I was sorry, every bone in my body wanted to bandage him and his deep-rooted pain. I could understand why H turned to violence and brutality when things didn't go his way, it was the cycle of abuse. That was all he knew. He wasn't taught to cope any other way, he lead by example.
My stomach aches from smelling the beer laced on his skin as I slide and gently lay H's head on a pillow. I get up and tip toe to the bathroom where I slash water on my face and groan at my appearance. The whites of my eyes were red from sobbing and the lack of sleep I hadn't received. My hair was in desperate need of a brush as I pushed it away from my face touching my stomach when I felt a twist inside.
I put a hand over my mouth and run the short distance to my toilet where I hurl a few times. I was exhausting my body to the point of this. My body physically couldn't handle any more then what I was asking of it, I needed to take care of myself.
After cleaning myself up and opting for a shower I pace over to the closet where I shut the door behind me making sure H was still knocked out. I drop my towel to the ground and pull on one of Harry's tee shirts that fits me more like a dress. It smelt like him and it brought me comfort, it gave me something to hold onto. All I could smell now was the stiff stench of alcohol.
I sit in the same corner I had once resided and pulled the recorder out from under a shirt I had covered it with. My hand trembled feeling the weight of the device in my hand knowing what was on it. Recordings of a damaged little boy and an abusive mother.
I flick open the box and pull out a little tape labeled "session 16: August 17, 1995". A chill runs down my spine when I read the year in chicken scratch handwriting, Harry was born in 1992. He was at such a young and tender age at the time this was recorded and bringing that reality to light made my heart ache for the little boy trapped in these tapes.
"You've been a very bad boy!" Immediately I hear Anne scream on the tape. I lump in my throat forms and my hands feel completely numb when I hear Harry sobbing in the near distance.
"I sorry Mama! I sorry!" Harry cries in his little voice, he barely put correct sentences together yet his mother was unleashing hell on her baby.
"It's too late for that now," Anne tells her baby who is in distress from the rustling she is doing. I can't tell what's happening and because of that, I rely on the sounds my ears pick up. I make out shuffling and rustling with something I can't quiet make out.
"Now hold still," Anne grabs baby Harry with a slap of his wrist. I can tell he is resistant and scared by whatever Anne is holding in her hands.
"No Mama! Mama! No!" The screaming stirs the acids in my stomach and I feel nauseous. My pulse races whole sweat forms at my hairline and my hands tremble.
"Pull down your pants, don't make this harder then it has to be," Anne warns Harry who just screams and kicks from what I can pick up. I hear him pick whatever Anne has in her hand, the sound of water spills onto the floor.
"God damn it!" She yells which is followed by a slap. I clench my jaw and feel my muscles tense from the sheer sound of the hand against Harry's delicate skin.
"I'm sorry Mama!" Harry cries and pleads once again after he has been hit by the woman who is supposed to protect him. The one person who is supposed to protect him from the cruel world turned out to be part of what made it so cruel.
"I won't deal with this behavior any longer, do you hear me?" Anne asks the baby who cries relentlessly wishing for the pain to go away. My heart cracks and shatters in my chest and nausea swirls in my stomach having to hear all of this.
I here the pulling of fabric which I can assume is Harry's pants accompanied by more screams once Anne seems to insert something.
"This is your fault! I had to do this because of you!" Anne screeches at the baby boy who screams blood-curdling cries that cause me to cower into the corner of this closet. My vision is blurry and I can no longer listen to the pleads and cries emitting from the innocent little boy that had grown up to be my husband.
I switch off the tape and curl into a ball feeling my stomach twist. Sobbing once again in the corner of this closet I chase my breath that seems to run away from me. I close my eyes and picture everything I had just listened to, I can see Harry's baby face and everything become worse that way. I stand up and bolt to the door where I fling it open and direct myself to the toilet.
Dropping to my knees I hurled and cried until it physically felt like I had no tears left. I ran myself dry and slumped over the toilet bowl where I laid lazily listening to the traumatized screams of Harry play over in my head.
My phone buzzes and rings and while I lay on the tile flooring I wait and let my phone direct that person to voicemail. I couldn't be bothered currently after listening to those tapes again, I felt sick. After a few seconds of silence, my phone goes off once again causing me to groan and get up off the floor to check the caller ID.
Picking up my phone I slide back down against the cabinets and answer when I see it's my mother calling.
"Hello?" I answer pushing my damp hair out of my face. I take some deep breaths and try to sound like I haven't just cried my heart out.
"Hey, how are you? I swear you never call anymore!" I hear my mother on the other end in a thick Italian accent that I could never forget.
I was surprised news hadn't surfaced about the murder-suicide next door. Part of me was relived my family hadn't caught wind of the situation because I couldn't stare back at them and lie. I couldn't tell them that I wasn't effected by it all, they would see right through me.
"I've just been really busy around here with Harry and this Sundance movie. It's all been really hectic I haven't even caught me own breath," I told her pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes.
"Is there anything I can help you with? I can come clean your house, catch up on laundry-"
"No, but thank you it means a lot to know that you would even offer," I tell her looking around this cluttered bathroom. Everything in this house was cluttered ever sense H made an appearance, I can't keep up with his messes.
"Are you sure? I would be happy to come and do that for you," my mother offers once again. I am tempted to take the help but I couldn't have her come over here. There was alcohol everywhere, and overall it was a disaster in this house.
"I'm sure, but thank you," I thank her once again sighing when I feel another wave of nausea hit me from the stench of alcohol looming.
"Okay, well I was calling you to remind you that we are having family dinner tomorrow night. Stefano and Felicity will be here, have you met her yet?" My mother was referring to my brothers girlfriend to which the answer was no. Although, I had seen enough of her Instagram posts to last a lifetime. All I knew about her was that she was trying to be an Instagram model which from my perspective didn't look like it was going so well.
"That's tomorrow?" I asked rolling my eyes when I realize I'm going to have to lug around H. How was I going to keep him under control since last time we had dinner it ended in a murder.
"It's always been the last Sunday of the month, now be there or be square, okay?" My mom tells me waiting for my compliance.
"Yeah, I'll be there," I tell her reassuring her that like always I will be at the dinner.
"I? What about that cute boy Harry? He better there too!" My mother was utterly obsessed with Harry, any opportunity she got she would be drowning him in compliments. If she could have him as a son she would do it in a heartbeat:
I look out into the bedroom hearing rustling in the sheets and come to the conclusion H was up. "Yeah he will be there, look mom I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow," I hang up and see H stumble on into the bathroom.
A lazy smile slides over his lips when he sees me and I take in a sigh. He comes and slumps down beside me on the tile, falling over until his head lays in my lap. I thread my fingers through his unruly curls and lean down to kiss the side of his hairline, pulling back some of the hair.
"Are you going soft on me Kitten?" He whispers in a drunken way while I feel his soft hair under my fingers.
"Never," I bite my lip hiding a smile as I watch his body move up and down from his steady breathing pattern.
My heart broke for H and Harry, all I wanted to do was bandage him from all the hurt he had endured. Now that I understood a fraction of what happened in Harry and H's home life it opened a doorway of more research I had ahead of me.
N. Hey friends! My lord this was such a sad chapter to write but I hope you are enjoying how the story is unraveling! There may be a double update this week because next week I will be out of town, soooo let me know if that is something you want from me;)