the little voice in my head

The little voice in my head

I was showering. I couldn't talk to Simon about any of this, he wouldn't understand. I think it is a Caribbean thing, because all the mothers around me were more than happy that their teenagers were going out with their friends. As if it was the perfect way to get rid of them.

As if there was no danger out there. How many young women were abducted, raped, killed?

That thought made me chill. When did I become so negative? So fearful?

I remember when Ava was six, going to elementary school, she wanted to do her own hair. She was so opinionated. She was discussing everything, she was vegan at one point because she realised eggs were taken from their hen mother and she was worried they would be sorely missed.

Oh and that time, she wanted a cat so bad, she promised she would clean her room if we got her one. And she did.

The cutest, the smartest six years old ever. My daughter.

No one tells you how brutal it is when your kid grows up and shuns you.

Was I ultra aware of that because I was bored and I had basically a handful of friends, maybe but still, I could tell something was up.

Like a whisper from the back of my head.

That first year of school was a struggle for me, seeing her going to school, starting to talk and act like the other kids when she was oh so singular, that was painful to me.

She cuddled me for two weeks near the school entrance and she became reluctant to do it, she ended up telling me she was no longer a baby, so we just waved.

And then she grew up again, she started middle school.

At this point, she was a different person everyday.

Happy, sad, radiant , depressed, then happy again.

I tried to get closer to her, nothing worked. She wasn't the little girl we used to know.

To witness this while being excluded made me feel worthless.

I tried to talk to her. I just needed to know what was going on in her life.

She had good grades but she just wasn’t discussing anything with us, at all.

And because she had good grades, there was literally no reason to ground her.

A little bit infuriating.

My girlfriends, whose children were the same age as Taylor, told me not to worry and that it would only be a step, a phase. That soon, she would either open up to her dad or to me, that I was a good mother.

But as you can guess it didn't happen. It was like leaving with a stranger that eats your food and uses your utilities, some shared house scheme. She managed to have rather good grades so she earned the right to go out to as she pleases.

I come from a household where I didn't have all those privileges.

My mom was more of a dictator. Get good grades, clean the house, go to church , study the church’s scriptures and do just that all over again.

Ava, I assume, was quite popular because she was always invited somewhere.

My friend Sue was their designated driver, lucky her, she knew where they were going.

Ava was telling us that she was going out, no details.

It was one of those nights, typical Friday night. I would be alone for a while.

Simon was out at the pub with his mates and I was in the living room scrolling through Netflix to find something to watch.

I ordered something from the curry place like I used to do when I was spending the night alone. The door rang and I ran to pick up my order. After eating, my mind started to run off again.

This is what my life is like now. A husband I didn't spend time with as much as I wanted to.

My family that was so far from me, my friends that were busy with their lives.

I remembered a quote I read somewhere saying that people aren't actually ignoring me, they are just busy with their life and that the best way not to feel ignored is to get busy with my life so I did just that.

I inhaled and exhaled and I ran up the stairs straight into my daughter's bedroom.

I was in my own right, that privilege, I acquired it by giving birth.

2.

Entering my daughter’s bedroom was something I was not prepared to do.

It was tidy, you could see I taught her well. My mom would be proud.

I didn’t have much reason to get into her room most days.

While I knew I was clearly invading her privacy, my curiosity was at its peak.

It looked like a Pinterest board.

Very neat.

Her computer was turned off and there was no sign of a diary.

I guess not many kids have those in this day and age.

I had no idea where to look or even what to look at. So i went out her room.

3.

“Laurette!”

“ Get up!”

“Don’t make me come and wake you up”

"Lauretttte!"

“ Lévé on fwa “ she yelled.

Her voice rang in my ears every Sunday morning.

My mother would wake up at 6:30 a.m, start cleaning the house, put on some music loudly, in what I think now was an effort to wake everyone up and then she would start preparing the Sunday meal.

Sunday lunch was a tradition at home.

A cause for celebration.

My mother made a point of cooking roast pork, red kidney beans and basmati rice or chicken colombo with potatoes and carrots or a short fish broth with plantain gratin.

Fair play to her, she was a great cook.

All these dishes, she had no time to cook during the week, but Sundays were different i guess.

Going to church was one of those Sunday obligations.

Mandatory.

My hair was done on Saturday night, my tresses were then trimmed with pearls and I went to sleep early on Saturday night, with my head tied up of course, ready to shine in church.

Those beads were my mom’s only answer to me wanting to look cute at the time.

She told me I was supposed to send a message that those beads could obliterate.

My parents were somehow big at church, I didn't know at the time how big but my brother and I were supposed to be picture perfect children. Lead by example.

Once we had gone to bed on Saturday nights, my brother and I, my mother would iron our clothes for the next day, my father's, and her own, and then read the church’s scriptures.

My father was quite frequently busy and pretty much never home but we knew he was doing stuff for the church and the church goers. I think whatever title he had in that church, he must have been pretty high ranked because he was always the one people were coming for whenever they needed anything.

I didn't like going to church personally, I found the atmosphere odd despite the smiles and good manner of the adults.

The way my brother and i would be kept away from the grow ups conversations, conversations would end when we would play near after the assembly.

ODD.

My brother and I were the only children that were going.

Each service lasted between 4 and 5 hours.

This was a long time for children but we understood rather quickly that we had no choice but to go.

That morning, I got up, had breakfast, and went to the shower.

My mother was ready when I finished.

Her white gown ironed to the millimetre.

Something was different about her that day.

She didn't exactly give me time to detail the change and hurried me to get dressed.

- You know how your father is when we are late," she said.

Yes, I know," I replied.

I knew it only too well

4.

I went down the stairs.

My little investigation had turned up with nothing.

Could I really call it an investigation?

All I wanted to do was pour myself a nice glass of wine and try to have a good evening.

So I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass and as I put the bottle away, I saw lights sweeping across the window.

I looked at the time, it was just after 10.

Simon came in.

He looked at me, and I could see in his eyes that he had drunk too much.

He had that childish, almost benign look.

I invited him to go to bed.

I had no desire to put up with my husband in this drunken state.

I continued my evening as soon as I heard those snores.

I started a series, a comedy, I needed to take my mind off.

It was a good one.

I found myself laughing.

It described the life of two black parents with their two children.

I used to long for that life. There was no mortgage discussion, no alcoholic husbands. The house was spotless.

A dream.

The kids would do stupid things, but within 30 minutes they would realize that it was terribly wrong and that they had to stop doing it, and they would start being angels.

The father and mother found time to go out in the evenings, and organised outings for just the two of them.

They would remember each other's birthdays.

Simon and I hadn't done that for years.

I went to College in the Uk and that’s where we met.

If you sit next to someone in the same amphi long enough, you start to talk and one thing leads to another.

He was that very funny, outgoing young man that made me have a good time.

That made me forget about everything.

The funny part is i was into his roommate at the time.

When I figured out Oliver was an arshole, I started looking at Simon under a brand new light.

He was tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. Daniel Craig look alike, only taller.

He had a certain charisma , I'm not gonna lie and I fell for it.

He made my life simpler which I desperately needed.

The very first time we made love, it was boiling hot. I was no longer the shy girl.

He had me meeting his best friends that night.

He held my hands during diner, kissed my cheek. Made me feel like a princess.

He praised my academic success to his friends and said how proud of me he was.

At this very moment, I felt like the only girl in the entire world.

When he brought me back to my door, we kissed goodbye.

But i had other plans, so i made that last kiss much more passionate that he was expecting it to be i think.

I started to rub my hands all over his body and kiss his neck.

He asked me if I was sure that I was ready and oh boy I was.

This was such a long time ago.

I went back to my series.

The parents were able to communicate with their teenagers and enforce their laws.

It was everything I wanted but didn't have.

Was it the wine?

I picked up my phone, and went through my address book.

I needed someone to talk to, and I knew I needed to talk to someone familiar.

Someone who’d understand.

He picked up after two rings.

- "Laurette!"

A silence followed.

- "Oh sorry, it's Laura now."

- No one has called me like that in years, I replied.

- It's almost like you were waiting for me to call," I added.

- She said you'd be calling me soon," he replied.

I felt a chill in my spine.

“ How are you lately?” he asked.

5.

“What can I say? Miserable?”

I would have so much to say and you know me, I'm afraid to forget things because I have so much to say.

"I've got an hour to kill before my next shift," he said.

- "How is Simon?" "Let's start there!" he questioned.

- Well, Simon's fine, I guess. He's stressed out about his job, so he's compensating by drinking more and more," I began.

"You've been telling me for years that he's been drinking more and more," he observed.

"It's not easy for him," I interjected. He's in charge of an entire engineering department and he realizes that it's not really what he wanted to do. He still wants to give up everything to become a chef, but he realizes that he doesn't have the time to change direction because he's getting older and that would mean losing his salary and of course disappointing his parents," I revealed.

"And how do you live with that?" he asked me.

"Well, I try to deal with it, it's hard to see him, so bad but not being able to do much for him, except listen to him, when he talks about it.

Plus with Ava, it's complicated, she's so...

"So?"

So weird.

"Is it school?"

"Not really, no. She gets good grades, her teachers are happy, good attitude, and a model student.

"She hasn't taken it far."

"She doesn't talk to me, it's like living with a stranger who comes and goes as he pleases"

“She has completely shut down.”

"Oh!" You know what Mum would say if she was here.

"Oh yes I know, I can't just raise Ava the way I was raised. "

"Why do you think she's weird?" Because she doesn't talk to you?

"I don't know why, I have this little voice in my head telling me to worry. That tells me something is wrong”

"You think she might be bullied."

"Not sure, she seems popular"

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Excellent question"

"Do you know about her social media accounts?"

"I think I know her very first instagram account, that's about it"

"If you're worried, it's about time you started investigating"

"I searched her room yesterday"

"Haha, you figured if she was hiding something she'd leave it out of sight in her room, yeah

That's probably what she figured. "How long has that little voice been telling you something is wrong?"

"It's been maybe... a month, less than a month I'd say."

In a slightly more serious tone, he said, “You might want to look into it, really quickly”

“Look, it’s time for me to go but please keep me posted’. “I mean it”.

I was properly scared now.

6.

The smell of food wafted from the kitchen.

Bacon. I was pretty sure he was cooking bacon.

Surely, eggs on toast with a slice of bacon.

My mouth was watering.

Maybe he'd do two. Eggs on toast with a slice of avocado and bacon and another batch with salmon. Simon was a wonderful chef. He cooked with all his heart, with all his guts.

He took out all his frustrations by throwing himself into recipes that were often outlandish. He was good.

I don't know how he came up with his recipes.

I remember the last time he cooked like this.

I had forbidden Ava to go out because there was a storm but he let her go out.

It was also a Saturday morning the last time.

I had forbidden Ava to go out the day before because there was a storm but he had let her go out.

He had totally undermined my authority.

He agreed behind my back and even gave her some pocket money.

I talked about divorce that night.

How could I go on living this life?

I was earning a very good living, I could live alone.

And maybe if I had my daughter for a few days to myself, I could reconnect.

We could do youth activities.

Tiktoks, who knows.

I went downstairs.

"Where's Ava?" She hasn't been home all night."

He held out his hand.

"Come here my love" he whispered.

Give us a twirl.

I moved closer to him. And turned around as he requested.

He pressed his hands over my bum cheeks.

He was so handsome.

The years had not diminished the attraction I felt towards him.

He was always the most beautiful to me when he walked into a room.

He led me in a little dance, which we used to do in those days.

A sensual rhythm. Almost sexual.

He kissed me and my heart sank.

We hardly ever kissed anymore, or only very briefly.

I had the impression that my husband, my boyfriend of 20 years ago, was still standing in front of me and hugging me.

"She texted me, she's at Zoe's and she's coming home tomorrow.

"Tomorrow" I shouted?

"Yes, we have the house to ourselves. "No kid"

He started kissing my neck, my cheek, my breasts. I was standing there, pushed against the kitchen cabinet.

His tongue swept over areas he hadn't visited in months.

It was like he was out of his mind.

Excited at the idea of making love to my husband.

I wanted him. He wanted me.

I let myself go. Soon enough, he was in his underwear in front of me. Then naked.

I nibbled his neck, his shoulders.

We were now just young adults, without children. I don't know how many times we did it.

We were hungry for each other. An insatiable hunger.

It was about 9pm on Saturday when we stopped.

We were glued to each other.

Our hands linked. He kissed me tenderly on the forehead and slowly we fell asleep.

I slept on his chest all night.

Maybe this was something that we could do more from now on.

Ava was going to go to the university soon.

I’d be able to enjoy sex with my husband as much as i’d like. I broke free of his embrace and went down to the kitchen.

It was about 10 am. I tried to call Ava but it went straight to voicemail.

You have reached Ava, leave a message.

I jumped out of my little cloud.

Whatever state having sex had taken me to, i was now no longer in it.

I decided to call Zoe but soon realised I didn't have her phone number.

So I tried to find the number of her mother, her father.

I realised that I didn't have Zoe's parents' number.

I was determined. I opened my computer, logged into Selfbook and searched for Zoe's name. Of course, she wasn't there. What was her last name again?

Her father was French. Her name was Zoe Delacroix. The name had come back to me.

Her mother's name was Rachel.

I typed her name into Selfbook and found her.

So I sent her a message that was meant to be non-anxious and calm.

I offered to pick up Ava later today.

I was counting on the fact that she wouldn't want to leave her house to drop my daughter off and would be more than happy for me to pick her up.

I waited a few minutes. The minutes ticked away and I sat there with the computer open in front of me.

I waited for her to see my message.

It took her an hour to see it.

She replied soberly, "Can I call you?”

I gave her my number and right away, my phone rang.

She sounded preoccupied.

"My husband is standing next to me", she started.

"The girls didn't spend the weekend at home", she added.

My jaw goes numb. I had no idea how to react. My mouth was stuck in a gap. I could hardly stand.

Where was my daughter?This thread, this life I held in my hand had slipped away.

The voice on the phone brought me back to reality temporarily.

It was asking me what I thought we should do.

Simon was coming down the stairs.

He was staring at me with a worried look on his face.

I was repeating little words, phrases, I was lost.

I apologised to Rachel. I had to go.

I summarised the situation to Simon and saw his eyes go blank.

I walked to the bathroom, my step heavy, my vision blurred.

I pushed the door behind me.

I was astounded.

My knees were on the ground.

I almost couldn't breathe.

I felt like i was having a seizure.

Then i passed out.

Simon was above me.

He wasn't alone.

A paramedic was holding my head above the ground franctically checking my vitals.

I tried to talk but i couldn't.

I tried to stand up but i was unable to.

My sole strenght was polarized by simply being there.

I'm not sure how i managed to stand from the ground.

The paramedic stood in front of me.

He was swinging a light in front of my eyes.

He seemed to think i was ok as he noded to my husband.

He took back all of his stuff and headed to the living room, followed by Simon.

The bathroom door was opened and i heard Simon although i couldn't exactly tell what he was talking about.

I had a look at myself in the mirror.

My vision was still blurry. Foggy.

I started speaking again by bit. Whisperring.

I heard a laugh.

A convulsive, sonorous laugh.

Simon was in the living room, he didn't seem to have heard.

"Did you hear that" i said loud enough so he hears.

"Heard what?" he said.

He was in the kitchen.

"I'm sure, she's alright you know" he added, picking some british tea off the cupboard.

"I used to disappear too, at her age, i would show up on a Sunday" he narrated.

That little voice in my head was reacting to what Simon was saying, whispering to me, this time.

"This is not how you've been raised Laurette, you and i both know"

I turned around, i could hear that voice like it was outside of my head.

What did i had for food last night?

I was hungry, my sugar levels low.

Of course, i felt some type of way, my daughter lied to me so she could spend the weekend outside, i had a feeling for days that she was lying to me.

I was a Carribean mom and as such, i didn't have control and i was affraid.

Plus she wasn't picking up. I was rightfully scared.

I was standing up staring at the mirror, unable to stop that conversation altough it was more of a monologue .

"What a life you live! A husband who touches you when he decides, a daughter who doesn't listen to you.

You are a Osha's priestess' daughter, you have been initiated into the rites, you could if you wanted to then live the life you want but you are content with so little. I'm here to change that you know...

Suddenly , i understood.

I remembered.

the church, the rites, the spells, the charms.

The ceremony at my 18 years old.

Me being allowed to escape. To go to College.

It never left me, i never left, it was just buried.

The things i've seen my mom and the other priestess do.

It was quite dark, quite somber.

They were not Hilda, Zelda and Sabrina. They had an agenda.

I would have to let go, give back the keys to my own body.

I had no choice, i was fighting her but she was strong.

I got out of the bathroom, asking her , begging her to leave Simon alone, speaking the only way i knew she would listen.

I had seen things.

The front door opened and Ava went in.

She looked at me, blinked twice and asked if i was alright.

But i was no longer in control.