WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN DARK CONTENT THAT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR SOME READERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE FAINTHEARTED.
Update: No Peter Scorscone. No romance.
The First Year
I start my new life in Littleton, Colorado with my triplets. I didn't think for a second that I would be making the biggest mistake of my life. My life changed once I landed, I struggled. I personally did not want too much assistance from Nancy and Dad as I know they are occupied with Ellie. I want to be completely independent. So when I experienced financial issues, I remained silent whenever Nancy or Dad contacted me.
"Amanda had her baby. A girl named Clementine. She was born on July 2, 2021. The baby was thankfully taken away from her once she was born." Nancy informs me. I could see her face growing ashen on the screen when she reveals this.
"Where is she now? Foster care?" I ask.
"No. No. Amanda's sister has her. Sandra Neese. She is just as vile as her sister, but not as terrible. She and her husband got Clementine before we could." Nancy sighs sorrowfully.
What I knew of Sandra was not good. Amanda is the fourth child out of seven siblings and Sandra is the third. Sandra has her own destructive past with a history of drug abuse and petty crimes. I have heard that Sandra can be quite pugnacious and abrasive. I'm not sure if she has children, all I know is she is married to an accountant named Frank Neese.
"Hopefully Clementine is being treated well by her. Poor girl will have a difficult upbringing when she learns the truth." Nancy begins to weep softly to herself.
I nod. "I hope so too," I say.
This is the last call I have with Nancy. I had no inkling that I would lose contact with her for the next ten years.
For the first three months of the first year, I struggle with finding work, living in hotels with a fair amount of money I had. Struggle to find affordable childcare with daycare payment being $316/month. Baby products for triplets ranging from $17 to $50.
I put in resume after resume into all of the jobs I desire and no luck. I find myself afraid that I will be on the streets soon if I don't find work eventually.
Every single waking day, I'm growing ever so exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. I feel as if I'm nine years old once again. Memories of my past repeatedly play in my head, haunting every fiber of my being. The memory of the day where my life changed forever.
On April 2th 2007, I remember it being a moist afternoon due to the heavy rainfall for the last two days. I lived with my mother and her boyfriend that I only knew as Frank in this small bungalow in a suburban area.
I was outside on the front lawn as I never liked hearing my mother and her boyfriend scream at each other. Which was something they did since they started dating. I always liked to play outside on the tiny playground they had set up.
I remember that particular day, my mother and Frank were fighting more viciously this time. Yelling and screaming so much that I remembered one of my next-door neighbors came out their house, asking me if I'm okay.
That's when I heard glass breaking and my mother screaming at Frank. She was screaming so loud that I could barely make out what she was saying exactly.
Frank burst out of the door, his face marred with red handprints, his fists clenched, drenched in sweat. Mom threw a glass cup straight at him as he ran off the porch. The glass cup missed himself entirely and just shattered onto the pavement. Frank made a mad dash to his old Mustang and my mother ran out of the house with a frying pan in her hand. I remember that she was crying, but I couldn't tell if she was crying out of anger or out of sorrow. I noticed that Mom had red marks on her as well, her right cheek was swollen red and there was a faint red ring on her neck.
Frank drove off in a haste and my mother tearfully hurled the frying pan in his car. The frying pan impacted his backseat window and made a sickening cracking sound. Frank didn't stop driving and I never saw him again.
Two neighbors from next door and across the street were observing this. Staring at my tearful mother from their porches.
But my mother was trapped in her own mental hell to care. I remember that I was silent that day, though I was never sure why. Perhaps it is because I assumed that this was one of my mother's typical breakups and she would move on just like the other ones. Perhaps I was too stunned by the sudden case of violence taking place? Maybe it was because of the neighbors judging both of our existences at that moment. I'm not sure.
To this day, I do wish I said something to her.
But instead, I just played with my barbies on the lawn and kept to myself.
I remembered that my mother just broke down sobbing to herself and running into the house without even closing the door.
I stayed outside playing for at least thirty minutes before returning back inside for a snack.
The house was silent. So silent you could hear a pin drop. I remember how I got goosebumps, how dreadful the environment was. I could just sense that there was something wrong.
I called out for my mother. But all of my shouts fell on deaf ears. So promptly I went to her bedroom. No sign of her. I went to my bedroom, thinking I would find her preparing to do laundry. But she is not there.
That's when I notice the bathroom's lights were on. There was only one bathroom in the house and my room was the closest to it. The door was ajar and I remember the strong smell of iron coming out of it. When I entered the bathroom, it was the horrific moment of my life.
"Mommy?" I poked my head into the bathroom, the stench of iron is ever so prominent. The first thing I see is the pool of blood. A bloodsoaked shard of glass is on the floor. Sitting in an overflowing bathtub was my lifeless mother. Her right arm was outstretched out of the tub, I could see the burrowing marks my mother slashed into her wrists. Her left arm was submerged into the tub, bleeding profusely in the water. Saturating the water with a sickening red hue.
I started screaming. I just screamed. There were no words. No tears. Just my blood-curdling scream echoing throughout the house.
What happened afterward was a blur. All I remember was that I was on my knees, on the front lawn, heavy streams of tears running down my cheeks. I was coughing my lungs out as I struggle to contain oxygen. I did not know what to do. My mind was completely blank. By then, the neighbors had returned inside their houses, I don't remember them coming back out.
I stayed there. Frozen to the ground. When nightfall appeared, I believe a neighbor saw me and called the police to do a welfare check on me.
The police discovered my mother's corpse and I was taken to the police station. A day later, my Dad took custody of me and I moved to Seattle with him.
Today, I lay in my bed, curled up in a fetal position as I morph into the same helpless child.
Next chapter will come soon. Reviews and thoughts.
