Little Puzzle Piece
“Mommy! Help me!” The voice screamed — this child in my head. I gulped a stone down my throat, speaking softly to my little puzzle piece, “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here.”
“Mommy! Help me!” The voice screamed — this child in my head.
I meditated that night, sitting on my couch with a blanket over my shoulders. I closed my eyes and sought out that voice. Colors, blue and green splotches, enveloped each other in circles; they turned into faint pictures of real life experiences and imagination. The deeper I traveled through the path my mind led me to, the more vivid the images became. Items I touched became caporal; the people speaking in the moving pictures materialized. I walked through streets, hallways, and more before finally coming upon the place I’d searched for.
Behind a black door I heard sniffles. With a push, the entrance opened, and what I saw was heartbreaking. A cage sat in the middle of a vast room; surrounded by darkness, a small boy no older than six sat with his knees to his chest. Dust floated overhead, illuminated by a spotlight.
He wailed as tears created streaks down his flushed cheeks. His eyes swelled, bloodshot, as they darted back and forth. “Mommy! I’m afraid. Please come back…”
I remembered the cage my soul existed in — when times were tough and there was no family to lean on. The weight of stress forced my body to the ground. Yanking myself to my feet was exhausting. There were days I felt like a boulder burdened my shoulders, and I always felt so alone. How tragic it was that this child knew my pain — such a young boy who shouldn’t have known the world’s horrors.
The cage seemed an eternity away, and it may have been if I wasn’t so determined to silence his voice. Each step was taken with a purpose as I strode toward what felt like my doom. Turning back was all I thought of, but the light over the boy was enticing. Behind me, the door remained open; for how long, I wasn’t certain. As if made of mist, the bars dissipated when I reached the child. Around his ankles were rusty shackles; his skin beneath the metal was red and blistering. I knelt in front of him. Glassy eyes looked up at me, his lip quivering. What a sad sight he was, suffering as I asked, “Why are you crying?”
He tucked his knees closer to his chest. He didn’t trust me. “I don’t want to be alone. Where’s my mommy?”
“I don’t know, but — “ If his mother was gone, and this boy was left in the cage shackled to the bars, no one was retrieving him. He was abandoned. I reached out and pet his head. His hair fluffed as he leaned into my touch. He was so familiar, reminding me of myself.
He sniffled and whimpered. “The dark is scary. I can hear monsters growling. They sit outside of my cage staring at me. When she locked me away, Mommy said they might gobble me up if I don’t behave.” The boy wiped his nose with his arm which was wet with snot. His nose, rubbed raw, ran uncontrollably. Around the room, I heard what petrified him; though for me the sound of the monsters were the voices in my head. How can you believe you can save this boy? You can’t even take care of yourself.
A worthless runt doesn’t deserve safety. Just kill yourself already!
I wanted to cry, but how could I? The boy was my priority. A woman’s voice growled: You ruined my life! I wish you were never born! As if hearing her shrieking as well, the child panicked, flinching. “She told me the cage was safe, but I don’t feel safe! I want my mom! I’m scared!”
“Shh.” I responded, pulling him into my arms, “You’re not alone anymore. It’s ok…”
The boy rested his head against my chest, listening to my heart beat into my throat. He placed his tiny hand on my pec. His tears subsided as he looked up at me and asked, “What’s your name?”
A pained smile crossed my face. “My name is Jay.”
The boy was ecstatic. “That’s my name! We’re twins!”
I tilted my head, inspecting his gaze. Within his bloodshot eyes, I saw the image of my mother throwing a plate toward me; it shattered next to my feet. She screamed until her voice was hoarse, and hatred filled her eyes. She emanated insecurity as she yanked me by the arm, throwing me on the ground. She dropped a broom and dustpan atop the ceramic shards. Clean it up! Stop acting like a privileged brat! My breath hitched as my suspicions were realized. The boy screaming in my head, this child that begged for protection — he was the forgotten piece of my heart. I gulped a stone down my throat, speaking softly to my little puzzle piece, “Well Jay, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here. Mommy isn’t coming, but I’m here.”
“Are you taking me home?”
“Yes Jay. I’m gonna take you out of this room, and don’t you worry I’ll lock the door behind us. You’ll never have to sleep in a cage again.” The chains around his ankles disappeared, and though the light above our heads blew out like a flame, I saw our way home. No longer was I a helpless child; I was old enough to protect the weak. I never predicted that the weakest person I would save was myself.
As I carried him out of the darkness, Jay told me: “Mommy said I was going to be a child forever. She was so mad at me. Why did she yell?”
I sighed. “Sometimes when people grow up, they lose sight of what matters most. Life spins out of control, and they claw at their walls trying to find some sense of control. The problem is some people gain control by oppressing others. They lock the weak in cages, threatening them with violence when escape is imminent. Violence comes in all forms; sometimes it’s a fist to the face and others it’s words that cut so deep they leave scars.” My stomach churned. As if I might vomit on the spot, I sensed my face was green. I almost broke down as I felt my fragile heart crack, then a soft presence washed over me. Jay’s fingers grazed beneath my eye, wiping a small tear away. He grinned as we took our first steps past the doorway. His skin was bright, eyes white and innocent. The boy was flawless; he glowed.
My pain lightened, though it didn’t disappear. I cradled him in my arms, hugging him like my own child. “There’s nothing wrong with you. An adorable kid like you should never believe they are better off dead. Your birth was a gift to not just yourself, but your friends and family. When you believe you are worthless — when those monsters charge at you, cry out for me. I’ll keep you safe for the rest of our lives.”
I opened my eyes hours later with a new understanding of my mind. The screaming was gone, and a vision struck me. Jay smiled, bright as pure light. He sat in my arms, pulling on my hair. That giggle that left his lungs was heavenly. My heartache eased knowing he was safe. As long as Jay had me, he would know joy. As long as I protected his innocence, my heart would mend.
It’s funny how opening one door in my subconscious cured my depression. If only for a small moment, I was at peace. Maybe one day Jay will return to me as a piece of my soul; until that day comes, I’ll enjoy his company, reminding myself everyday that I don’t have to cry anymore. I don’t have to punish myself for someone else’s shortcomings and live in the cage they made for me.
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