“It’s a boy”
His skin was as pale as the white snow that blessed the ground upon his arrival, lips as blue as the night sky, his hair slicked by the fluids of my body that protected him. My child, my son! had come to rescue his mother, to bless her with nothing but sincere happiness. The joy I felt wasn’t one I could contain, even the excruciating pain that I felt take over me, the shocking electrifying currents that ran from my pelvis to my back couldn’t compare or even come close to the joy I felt in the pit of my stomach, or to the love I could feel that flowed through my blood to every vein in my heart. This was a feeling I knew I had needed to feel, a feeling that would last an eternity, a feeling that made me strong enough to live to tell this story, the feeling that made an honest woman of me, I was finally married to motherhood.
I remember staring at him for ages, analysing every single detail about him, from the way his chest inflated as he took each breath that I so lovingly gave to him, to the way his tiny fingers clutched the hope that he gave to me from the very beginning. I needed nobody else at this moment, just me and my son. I watched as the nurses checked him over, I couldn’t bare to turn a cheek just incase, knowing my luck something went wrong, but he was healthy, a healthy handsome little boy.
Tears rolled down my cheeks, each tear for the heartache that was now eased, and each drop for the years to come in here, but I made a promise to him that, nothing would stop me from being a good mother, not even these four walls.
“MURDERER GIVES BIRTH BEHIND BARS”
I had lost my home, my job, my “husband”, my life, my freedom and yet that wasn’t good enough for the world. Almost a year later after being convicted and I still had some sort of spotlight in the media. I wish they had left me alone, I wish they hadn’t tarnished my name anymore than they had already done, I really wish they had just let me do my time in peace. What could I do? Nothing, so I just turned a blind eye to it all and got on with building a bond with my child.
Elijah Micael Davis was what I decided to name him. No trace of a father figure in his name needed, just the legacy of his mother, after all I wasn’t really married to that man in the eyes of the law. Trevor definitely wasn’t his biological father, Elijah didn’t resemble him one bit, at this point I thought if there was a God in the very sky that shadowed over us, that he definitely heard and responded to my prayers. Before the birth I was petrified, terrified even that my first and perhaps only child would be a constant reminder to me of the scum that laid beneath the soil of the earth, and that some part of me would despise them for being so, but he wasn’t, I knew very well he wasn’t just by his presence, this child had a glow so pure that Trevor’s dirty little semen couldn’t provide.
I was content knowing that the guy who gave me this child despite being a one night stand was more than half decent in appearance and even more satisfied knowing that I didn’t spend ten years of my life fighting for him to give me a purpose, instead a mistake let this happen. I knew shit all about him, but this didn’t phase me because the man who I thought I knew, I didn’t know either, this was the best way, I couldn’t imagine feeling any more happier with the outcome than now.
The time had come to say our goodbyes. I knew this day would come and I chose deliberately to ignore it but it always resided in the back of my mind. My heart sank deep within my chest, the sort of feeling when your body knows things are going to get bad, when it knows that something is going to disturb your inner peace. I cried a million tears but still it wasn’t enough to express how hurt I was to let Elijah go. I kept telling myself that, somehow soon I’ll be next to him, and that I will never not be here for him. Words couldn’t ever explain how much love I had for my child and because of this love I found the strength deep within me to wipe away my tears, say my goodbyes and move on.
I relived every sleepless night, every cry, every laugh, every move, every smile that he made and I would relive this moment everyday in my head if I needed to feel better. I use to sit on my bed and play with his toys and imagine him playing with me, responding to me, his mother, and although he wasn’t here nothing would ever change that.
“Autumn wasn’t here to stay and Spring just skipped by, yet Summer went for a lovely stroll, while the glacial deposits of winter followed.”
“Mrs Davis, you have a visit”
A visit. Again with the unexpected visits from whom I had no idea to be sitting at that table when I entered the room. My heart pounded as I walked along the corridor to the visiting area. My mind wondered tremendously far between each step, I had no siblings, no parents, no friends, who could possibly be coming to visit me? Maybe it was Elijah’s dad? Maybe he saw what was in the news, maybe he wanted some answers. This was a stress I really didn’t need at that moment, I was beginning to miss my son a whole lot, the last thing I needed was the other half of him to remind me of my loss.
I finally got to the visiting area, I quickly scanned the room but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I thought to myself, was this just a sick joke? I had been here for two years and a half and not one visit, it was hard not to conclude that this was a silly joke. Had one of the guards pulled off a “laugh” at my expense? I could feel my blood boil until the prison officer gestured to me to take a seat at a table where a young woman sat.
As I got closer to her, there it was. All the answers I needed. I could see the guilt written all over her face. She was the spitting image of him, so much so I almost vomited. It was Trevor’s daughter. The one bred of the late wife that “disappeared” off the face of the earth. I could feel panic coming over me all over again, I tried so hard to run away from this feeling, but anxiety wasn’t my best friend at all. As I sat down, she told me sternly, “we have an hour please do not speak until I have finished” and so I did as she requested. I remember her describing in depth how she constructed her revenge and how much she hated him and how much he hurt her and her mother and when she described in detail what she had done to him for the justice of her mother, my heart broke. I felt her pain, the intensity of the feelings she now felt and perhaps all the hatred and hurt she held for all these years, I could feel it even if she decided not to say another word. If I could hold her I would of, because I knew exactly where she was right now and exactly how she felt.
“He made her feel worthless, he broke her heart into segments of meaningless words, self hate, depression and worst of all a place where on many occasions she considered suicide. He drove her to a place where she couldn’t fathom her own mind, and then he took from me the one thing I loved the most. I know this because my mother was a writer, she use to read to me all the time when she was happy and then the moment he started to beat her and punish her for his wrong doings, she stopped. She stopped and instead she started to write, I remember she use to write in a fluorescent pink book, covered in flowers and butterflies. I always use to ask her to read it to me but she never, she always said “it’s for adults darling”.
Before he sent me away I saw this book in one of her drawers and so took it with me in memory of her. When I was old enough I read it, my heart broke as I read each page of nothing but pure heartache and truth written on paper from a woman who wanted to do nothing but love and please her husband. He threw it in her face constantly and then he took her away from me and without a single moment of punishment, left her to rot, without a body he couldn’t be convicted…”
She started dragging her nails across the splints of the table, I could absorb the frustration, the anger, the hurt that formed between her, the air and I and then her head fell in her hands, I let her breath for a second, remembering she asked me not to speak until she finished, I said nothing, then she came up for a gasp of air and proceeded..
“I remember walking in the bathroom and seeing him hold her head under the water. She was fighting and he didn’t let go, he didn’t stop, I started screaming but by then she was long gone, her soul afloat. He turned to me and told me to close the door, and so I did, that was the last I saw of my mother, a few days later he sent me to Colombia to live with my grandparents. I didn’t dare to tell them what I had witnessed because even at ten years old I knew of evil in the world and knew that in order for him to feel how I felt I would have to deal with him myself. So knowing what he had done, I took matters into my own hands and when I became strong enough reaped the seeds he sowed.”
I admired her from across the table, everything that mattered to me, every feeling of resentment, every piece of pain that I felt that I once suffered from disappeared. She was strong and a lot stronger than I, no fear, no remorse, not even I could of dealt with him in that manner. I knew now that I couldn’t ever compare emotionally to the hurt this young woman was feeling. She told me she had nobody, she had nothing to loose and that she knew when the day came she would enjoy it because for years she had to relive the moment he selfishly took an innocent, loving, woman from her.
“visiting times up, all prisoners are to head back to their cells”
Without a word I got up and left, I knew in my heart that even if I served life for a crime I didn’t commit that I couldn’t feel half as hopeless as she did right now. I remember sitting in my cell lost, for once my mind came to a halt and I just sat in complete silence thinking of absolutely nothing. I decided it was best after feeling so exhausted to take a nap.
Days passed by and I decided to stop dragging my feet along the ground and make a better living for myself while I was here. For once in my life I went to the gym and it felt so good that I made it into a habit, part of my daily routine. I then did some course on hair dressing so I could work in the Salon to make money for my food and toiletries. I even made friends on the ward, I thought maybe this won’t be so bad I mean I could be homeless or dead so I guess prison is a start. I was just getting settled, until a later was slid under the door of my cell.
Who the hell can be sending me letters, I immediately thought it was Michael at least. I opened it, I remember word for word what it said:
You are a strong woman. You have put up with a lot over the years and being able to put up with that man without killing him yourself shows how strong you are. I came to visit you because I had no idea you would be punished for my actions, I read the newspapers and what they are saying about you, and your son! Congratulations. I know it’s a year too late but I had no idea. You don’t deserve this at all, and as I am a woman of pride consider this a thank you for even being close to understanding the pain that I felt. I will be turning myself in to the police station, I will hold my hands high in praise and confess to the murder, I have come to set you free.
I rubbed my eyes multiple times, I couldn’t believe what I was reading, my heart, in fact my entire body leaped for joy, I was finally going to be set free, I was finally going be reunited with my son, finally two and a half years of prayers had been answered. I cannot even describe in words the revelation I felt that very day I stepped foot outside that prison. I was going to get my son, I was going to get my life back.
– a year later.
It was his second birthday, and as we wasn’t able to celebrate his first we held a birthday to remember. Me and Michael took him to Disney land with his family to celebrate. I couldn’t believe for a second that this is how things had turned out, from a nightmare to a fairytale, I was truly blessed. Me and Michael became an item after he discovered that I had his child, we decided to start anew, begin a whole new book and write our first chapter of many to follow.
After Cataliya confessed, and was sentenced I made a vow to her, despite not knowing her from Adam, and despite her getting me wrongful imprisoned I felt like I owed her and most importantly I felt like I had taken on the duty to have two kids instead of one. From that point onwards I kept in contact with her, I sent her letters, cards on her birthday, I made sure she had essentials and me, Michael and Elijah went to visit as often as we could. I couldn’t help but think this was all karma for the pain and agony I previously caused to the men that broke my heart, I now understood that sometimes the best revenge is to move on. Call it an epiphany if you please, a very long winded one. Despite the turbulence once present in my life I couldn’t be anymore grateful for the man that I ended up and the path that I walked in the end. I hoped that this happiness I felt, would last forever, but life always has it’s ways of attending to the wicked when realisation is far too late.
“Sometimes revenge doesn’t always set you free”