Losing Hope!

Joy Francis stood in the crowd in shock and agony, watching and waiting for the Paramedics to remove her only child and daughter, Hope’s body from the house she has owned for three years. The mortgage has twenty-seven more years to go before her dream house would become her own. Zion, her son and only child, and Joy’s only grandchild had thirteen more years before he could get a permit to drive. Fifteen more years before he would graduate from high school and enter college. He had eighteen more years before he would become an adult. Now, he will have to do all the above without a mother and a father. She got the call from Christine, Hope’s best friend from Elementary School. Living an hour away, Joy drove as if she was fleeing from Satan and arrived at her daughter’s house in half the time.

Now, she can’t go in, standing in the crowd listening to the neighbors talking about how many times James would come and threatened to kill her. How many times he would beat her up, even before they were married. Joy was just learning about many of the things that her daughter had hidden from her, also covered with makeup.

Then one of the women put a knife in her heart and turns it, “Amanda, my grand-daughter was in her class in high school and she said even in high school he used to slap her around. I don’t understand how a mother would let her only child married her abuser.”

“She is an only child?” another voice asked. “I agree, her mother should have stepped in and put a stop to it. She helped to end her child’s life!”

Joy fought her instincts, her tongue, her feeling, every power in her to defend herself, but it was as if rage and hatred were in control of her. A voice cried out inside of her, “I am Hatred, and it’s not me.” Rage defended himself, “I am Rage, neither is it I, because we must feed, and you are denying us the right to eat.”

According to Christine, Hope called her because James was threatening to break down the door. He wanted money. Christine stayed on the phone, using her other cellphone to call the police. Minutes later she heard gunshots as Hope's voice cried out saying, “No, James, no!”

By the time she got there, the police were already there, and her best friend was dead by three gunshots to her head. James was as absent like the snow in July.

Rage and Hatred taunts, “You know where to find him. We need to feed.”

Suddenly she grabbed back control and eased out of the crowd, went into her car, and drove to his mother’s house. Control by hatred and rage, she drove past the house. Then turned around and slowly drove past again. Hatred said, “take it from the back, no one is expecting you so quickly.”

Rage adds, “just do as we say. He will pay for killing your baby.”

Invisible to everyone in the house, thanks to the overgrown shrubs, she sneaked up to the back door like a cat after a mouse. Rage lifts her right foot, and she kicks open the door. A single gunshot and a scream, pushed hatred and rage away, giving her back control of herself. A young man was lying on the floor in shock. James was a few feet away on the floor bleeding from his neck. A semi-automatic silver handle handgun was lying on the floor to the right between both.

Siren screams, edging closer as the young man jumps up off the floor, backing away from her. Rage seeped back in and she edges closer to the gun lying on the floor. The young man races through the back door as the siren stops outside, and voices cry out, “Don’t move!”

Joy stopped, as rage recedes, and a Police officer walks in, with the young man in handcuffs.

Hours later she was taken to the morgue to identify her daughter’s body.

James didn’t die, but he was crippled from the neck down. That was his sentence, he couldn’t commit suicide, so he will live with his deeds and his pain. Shawn, the young man who accidentally shot him when raged kicked open the door, he owed money that he was trying to steal from Hope.

Having to bury a child. Your only child. Is more pain than any human can imagine. Along with the cause of death and how preventable it could have been, triples a mother's grief. Zion, her grandson, would help to ease some of the pain and grief. But regrets, and what if, will never let go. And that’s life. I have been studying many mothers in my country and others that I know outside that have only one child. I noticed many of them, allow the child to get away with a lot of things that multi parents children don’t allow. Unconsciously, sometimes we do contribute to our children’s demise.

In my country, we say, “one pickney, ah no pickney.”

It means if that child dies, you will have no more children.

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoyed it.

Image and story copyright by Annelise Lords 2021.