Kite In The Snow by Karla Lopez

 

I lazily open my eyes as the morning sun hits my face. I realize I’m still on the couch where I fell asleep after crying my eyes out for Carter, waiting for Travis to return. I run to his crib to see if he’s in there to see he is not.

I grab my phone and walk out the front door. I don’t have a car, so I walk for two hours until I get to the other side of town to Travis’s house to look for Carter. When I get there, I buzz the gate, but after twenty minutes of waiting, there’s no answer.

I feel my throat clog in desperation and helplessness of having Carter being taken from me. This is the life I was running away from.

Tears fall down my cheeks, and I bite my lip to try to contain the sob that’s suck in my throat. I can’t give up because Carter is my world and I’d rather be dead than give him this life.

This life of mess, of abuse, of uncertainty.

I make my way to the only option I have left. I feel desperate and I would do anything for Carter. I stand at my parent’s front door, and the memories rush through me like wind. This house is filled with so much hurt and fear.

I slowly knock on the door and hold my breath. My mom’s shocked face is the first thing I see.

“Mae?” she asks, surprised, holding the door open just enough for her small frame to make it through.

“Mom,” I hesitate but sob out. I expect for the woman who gave birth to me to reach out and hold me, but all I feel is the coldness I have always felt.

“I need your guys’ help. I had my baby, and he’s just perfect, mama,” I rush out before she gets a chance to close the door in my face.

I can see her eyes soften, but the moment is short-lived when the door is yanked out of her reach, and the brutal man I call my father stands before me.

“Dad,” I say simply, waiting for him to say something.

“You’re not welcome here.” The words are cold, and they sting more than they should. I never had a good relationship with them, but I’m their daughter..

“Please, Dad. Travis took Carter and I need help getting him back.” He doesn’t even blink.

“Too fuckin’ bad,” he answers slowly.

A rush of emotions hit me, and it makes me want to shake them both for the hurt they have caused.

“I’m your daughter,” I cry out. “How can you not want to help me. All my life all you have done is cause so much hurt.”

My father grabs my arm and pulls me toward his body forcefully. “It ain’t my fault that you went and spread ya legs.” He spits with so much venom.

I grit my teeth and stare at him dead in the eyes. “What’d you think God would say about the dead-beat dad you are?”

His eyes turn deadly, and I yank my arm before he can react to my comment. I walk down the driveaway, but something makes me turn around.

I look at my mother and shake my head at her. “I will be the mother to Carter that you never were to me.”

The look in her eyes screams how much I broke her, but they were words that needed to be said. Not even almost dying woke her up enough to protect me.

I end up walking all day, all over town trying to find Travis, but I don’t find him and decide to go back to the house to check if he’s there. When I get there, and the house is empty, I scream my lungs out and drop to my knees.

I sob my eyes out, curled into a ball. “Oh, God. Please, make him come back. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough,” I cry so desperately that my throat begins to throb.

I end up lying there for two days without moving, without eating, without anything until I hear Travis’s truck. I instantly get up and open the door.

I let my first breath out since I last saw Carter, and I see him sleeping soundly in his car seat that Travis is holding. All I do is stare and make sure it’s not a fragment of my imagination.

Travis doesn’t meet my eyes, but I can see it in his body posture that he’s upset. He has this look of being guilty. I want to scream in his face for what he did, but all I care about is Carter.

Travis walks inside the house and leaves Carter next to the couch, then walks out the front door without a word. I pull Carter from his car seat and hold him to my chest while I inspect him even though deep down in me, I want to believe Travis wouldn’t actually hurt him.

I sob so loudly that Carter wakes and starts to cry with me, but I can’t calm down enough to help him calm down too. The amount of hurt I endured of having him away from me, makes me act and not think.

I place Carter in his crib with a bottle and he finally relaxes. I grab one of the bags I used to runaway to pack mine and Carter’s things into it. I pack so fast that I don’t even register what I’m taking.

I just want out.

I just want out.

Please.

I block out my thoughts again and place our packed bag under Carter’s crib. I take a shower and dress Carter in something warm, knowing that I won’t be able to take much.

I sit in the dark kitchen, next to the window that is giving me light from the moon. Travis hasn’t come back, and I hope he doesn’t before Carter and I are already gone.

I write Wyatt a letter, telling him the whole truth. I tell him why I had to leave and how miserable I’ve been, that I love him, and that we’ll be home soon. I date the letter and seal it.

I walk outside and place it in the mailbox and put the marker up to alert the mailman that it needs to be sent off. They usually come around dawn, so I’m not scared that Travis will find it.

After, I walk back inside to grab Carter and our bags. I turn off all the lights, so no attention is brought to us. I look around the house filled with so much hurt and abuse. I’ll finally be free again.

I’d rather run for the rest of my life than spend one more night here. I open the door to walk out when the air is knocked out of me. I look up to see what I hit, when black, bleak, bloodshot eyes stare right back at me.