Forgiven

"Stay away from me," he said. "Don't come near me. I don't want to talk to you."

My intention was to apologize but he was hearing none of it.

"You fucked up!" he screamed, finally turning to face me, tears streaming down his thirteen year old face, spitting on me as he shouted in rage. "You promised me and you fucked up."

"I know," I said, gulping, trying to hold back my own tears, trying to be the adult in the situation. God knows he didn't have enough of them around. "I'm here to tell you I'm sorry."

"You're weak," he said, wiping his nose. It was like he'd been crying for years. "You're a pathetic moron."

"Now you sound like him," I retorted.

"I'll never be like him."

"No, you won't. But you'll be like her. And I'm sorry, but you have to forgive me. I can't stand you being angry at me anymore. I punish myself for this every day. Emotionally, physically... "

Shaking his head back and forth, he gave himself little hits on the head with his fist, over and over again, "You promised me. You promised me. You promised me."

"What can I do?" I asked, a tear escaping. "What can I do to make you forgive me?"

"You can remember me for starters!" he said, suddenly screaming again, as though if he yelled loud enough I might really hear him. And then just as suddenly reduced to a whimpering boy, "You can take me with you. You can get me out of here."

"I want to," I told him. "I will if I can."

"What is this 'if I can' bullshit?" he spat. "I don't think in those terms. Whatever you want to make happen, you can."

I was at a loss for words.

He continued, clearing his throat, more calm now, "Look, you've got to get your shit together, man. You're in Los Angeles fucking California! I can only fucking dream of what that's like. You finally get to see that sign in the hills every day of your life. You get to be with people who understand you and don't judge you or make fun of you. You get to not feel like the odd man out anymore. You have financial freedom and a creative job so that you can enjoy your life and career while pursuing your dream, your goal. OUR dream, our goal."

"You're right," I said, beginning to see things through his eyes for the first time in years.

"Of course I'm right, but that doesn't mean shit, does it? You've been too busy reliving the nightmare that goes on outside of my bedroom door, haven't you? You've been too busy trying to destroy every goal we ever had. And we had a lot of them, really, so that must take up an awful lot of your time."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked. "I need your forgiveness so that I move on."

"You wany my forgiveness?" he asked, getting up in my face. "Stop wasting your time punishing yourself, stop wasting your time on things that don't appreciate you, stop settling for anything less than what WE wanted. You want forgiveness? I already told you. Take me with you. Get me out of here. You're the only person who can save me. And I'm the only person who can save you."

From beyond the bedroom door, we heard a woman scream and the breaking of glass. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of it, though it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

I looked into his eyes and they were more grown up than mine. I started to cry. "I love you so much," I sobbed. "I am so sorry. I wanted to give you a childhood, I wanted to be reckless, I wanted to live for every second. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn't know."

"But you know now," he said, nearly pleading. "Please take me with you."

More screams from the next room. I had to accept he was right.

"You're not safe here," I said. "It's time to go."

I was crying but he was jumping up and down, so excited, "Do you mean it?! Do you really mean it?"

I took his hand in mine and felt whole again. "Yeah, kiddo," I said, messing up his perfectly placed hair. I opened the sliding glass door behind him that led out to the pool so we could sneak out of the house like we always used to. "Take a good look around and grab anything you need," I told him. "We're never coming back here again."



Song of the Week: "Conversations with My 13 Year Old Self" - P!nk