Break the Child: chapter Seventeen: Laugh in it's Face

Chapter Seventeen: Laugh in It’s Face

I know everything now.

            Dad is furious. He’s put one of those Net Nanny things on the internet so that I have restricted access. I wish he’d done it last week, before I started looking stuff up. Mum said that I’ve been looking at things that I’m too young to deal with, abortions and stuff. And ‘stuff’ being the dementia thing that she’s got.  All the horrible words and pictures are in my head, going round and round and I can’t get them out. Most people have net nannies to stop them looking at porn and dirty stuff. I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong, but now I’m scarder than I’ve ever been scared before and abortions and dementia is a lot worser than looking at willies and stuff, that’s how it tuned out.

            I was going to make lists for her, stupid, stupid, stupid lists. I was going to make them pretty with all borders and stuff. I’m stupid, that’s what I am. I’m just a stupid kid. What good are pink roses when my mum’s not even going to be able to read? How can you suddenly unlearn reading?

            Dad says that I have to be brave for Mum’s sake, but I can’t be brave. I’m going to lose my mum as much as if that lorry had caved her skull in and killed her.

            My mum is going to forget how to go to the toilet.

            She might even forget how to talk. She’s going to forget me. And I’m going to watch her forgetting me, until she doesn’t even know who I am. And there’s no point in making a stupid name tag to tell her, because even if she could still read it, that would only tell her my name. It wouldn’t make her remember me or love me.  I’m only thirteen. I need my mum.

            I can’t stand it.

            I keep crying every time I look at her, so I just come up to my room to get out of the way. I want to spend every second of every day with her, but I can’t. I can’t be near her because I just keep crying and then Dad gets mad with me for not being brave.

I got poppy and pulled her right into me to cry with her, but she struggled and then she scratched my face because I held onto her to cry. She doesn’t know that I’m upset like Kali did. Kali used to just lie there in my arms and get all wet with my tears, but she never moved. She’d look at me and lick me with her smelly tongue, and she just knew. She always knew when I was upset. Cats are horrible. They don’t care.

            When I didn’t come down for dinner when Mum called me, Dad came up to see what I was up to. And I was lying on my bed. I was all snot and tears and had blood all down my cheek from where Poppy scratched me. It was stinging really bad.

            Dad sat on my bed and pulled me into his arms and I just sobbed. I told him that I knew it all. And all about Mum turning into a dead person but still being alive, like a zombie in a scary film. And he just kept saying my name over and over again. And he was crying too. I’ve never seen my Dad cry before. It was the scariest thing ever because my dad never cries. He just makes everything all right. 

            He brought me downstairs and we sat at the table and I knew, right then that when I grow up. I am not going to have a dining table. I’m going to tell my husband to buy a big bath, one of those with feet on it, and I’m going to put it in the middle of the dining room and have all flowers in it, because Mum likes flowers. And we can eat our dinner on big cushions on the floor like hippies do.

            Dad told me that I have to be brave, but he wasn’t brave. He cried. And I knew that My Dad was just a normal person. He couldn’t make it all right, because it was never going to be all right again.

            When he stopped crying, he said that it was best that I knew what we were dealing with. He said that it was a horrible shock for me and that he was so sorry that he didn’t protect me from it. He said that he hadn’t realised what an intelligent young woman that I am turning into. But I couldn’t be happy with him saying that, like I would have been if he’d just said it for being normal. And he said that I have to be brave and strong. I’m not a young woman; I’m a schoolkid who just started her periods, but I didn’t tell him that. Not the period bit. He shook his head and said, ‘My little Ding-dong, you are going to have to grow up too fast now.’

            And I get it. I didn’t before, but I do now. I understand why Dad wants Mum to have an abortion. It’s not fair that she’s having a baby and going crazy all at the same time. I told them that, if they want to have a special abortion, it’s okay. I won’t be horrible about it. But I was thinking about what Sal would say and who she’s already told. I’ll miss my little brother so much and I haven’t even met him yet. And then I started crying again.

            Dad told me, ‘Shush kitten, it’s okay; we’re not going ahead with the termination. We’re going to have the baby and I’m going to give up work and we’re going to manage. It’s all going to be okay.’ I felt happy and sad all at the same time.  Mum put her arm around me, she was crying without making any sound. She wiped her nose on a piece of kitchen roll that she had up her sleeve and her nose went all red because the paper was scratchy. ‘Katie, listen to me, sweetheart.’ I looked up at her and her voice was all strong. ‘I’m going to start doing some odd things.’

            Dad made a joke then, he said,’ Start? Honey we’re way beyond starting anything.’ And we all laughed.

            ‘And that’s exactly what I want,’ she said. ‘From now on, the way we are going to deal with this as a family, is by laughing at it. ‘Katie, it’s a sad, sad thing, but it is happening, and we can’t stop it. So, we’re going to laugh in its face. When I do something daft, never be afraid to tell me. And Katie, I want you to laugh. There’ve been too many tears in this house and from now on, we’re going to find fun in everything, for as long as we can. And just think, soon we’ll have a new member of the family to love. When the baby comes—’

            Dad interrupted her. ‘Baby, what are you talking about? What baby?’

            ‘Duh, mum’s having a baby, Dad.’

            ‘You’re what? You’re having a baby?’ I laughed to be polite, but it wasn’t funny. He was trying too hard. I told him that it would have been funnier if Mum had said it.

            Mum made hot chocolate and Dad warned her not to make it with gravy powder. She threw a wet cloth at him and it hit him right in the face. Now that was funny.

            And we didn’t know it then, but the next day Mum did something really nuts, and it was hilarious.