Chapter Text
As a young boy, Bim was constantly in some form of pain. Whether it be a sickness, injury, or his chest aching with horrible emotions, there was always pain. He couldn’t think about life without it, didn’t know there was life without it.
He understood what it was of course, his mama explained that to him when he was very young. He remembers her telling him it was the feeling he felt whenever he got a cut or a bruise, that sharp, sometimes lingering tingle that your body doesn’t like. It meant your body was trying to tell you that something was potentially causing harm.
“But mama,” Bim had said, confused. “I feel that all the time.”
She didn’t let him go places too much after that. Before, they would go to the park and do fun things like go down the slide or ride the swing, and in that time Bim would sometimes find a friend to talk to. Mama always made the friend leave before they ever knew his name, and many of times this would make the boy sad.
“Why can’t I go play with them?” Bim would ask, pouting and crossing his arms. There was about half a dozen other children on the playground, but mama said to not talk to them. It was unfair! He wanted to do things with them too!
Mama knelt down to his height, brushing a strand of dark hair away from his eyes. He would refuse to look at her, keeping up the image of being mad as long as he could. His hands ached from holding them like this, but he never told her that. Bim didn’t even know what it meant at that point.
“Oh honey, I’m just trying to keep you safe, alright?” she would say gently and soothingly, attempting to look in his eyes. “How about we go get some ice cream, now how does that sound?”
Bim would finally look up at that, the promise of the sweet treat to nice to ignore. “Okay,” he would mumble, not able to hide the smile that crossed his face as mama picked him up and took him to the ice cream truck that was close by.
But now they don’t go the park anymore, don’t get ice cream like they used to. He had a feeling it had something to do with pain he told mama about, but he still didn’t understand. It’s never stopped him from having fun before, so why did it matter now?
When Bim entered 1st grade, however, the pain grew worse. Much, much worse than it had ever been. It was especially painful around his neck, constantly tender and sore, and when he checked in the mirror one morning after it was particularly bad, he saw what looked like a black bruise on his skin. It wasn’t just like any bruise, though, it moved, waving much like a snake he just learned about a few days ago. To him it was strangely pretty, even if it did hurt, but to mama, it was something much, much worse.
“How long has it been there,” she snapped, suddenly looking much harsher and defensive than she had been just a moment ago. She knelt down to his level, much like she would at the park, but instead of brushing his hair to comfort him, it was to reveal the moving bruise on his neck. It was rather high up, right below his ear for the most part, and his hair covered most of it up.
Mama didn’t say anything when she saw it. Her lips pressed together, eyes narrowed and hardened into something Bim didn’t understand. Whatever it was, it scared him, and the boy didn’t like being scared.
Now was wasn’t allowed to to school. At first he thought it would only be for a few days, but then they started packing a bunch of their things into suitcases and mama bought a ticket for this thing called a ‘plane.’ Bim’s only heard of these things because Barry, his bestest friend, told him about them. He said they fly in the sky and go really high like a bird does, and his big brother knew how to fly one. Bim wasn’t sure if that was true or not (Barry’s gotten in trouble for lying a few times) but either way, being in a plane sounded cool.
“Where are we going, mama?” Bim asked as they walked to the car, dragging their suitcases with them. He noticed a funny looking sigh that read, For Sale, in the lawn, and he wondered how long it’s been there. He’s seen it before, their next store neighbors had one a while back. A few weeks after that they put all of their things inside a giant truck and left.
Bim contemplated this for a minute, squinting his eyes at the sign. That was another thing, his eyes starting to make shapes look blurry when they were far away. It was rather annoying, but not so that he would say anything about it. He didn’t want mama to get mad again.
“Mama…” Bim said distantly, still staring at the sign. He had a weird feeling in his stomach, and he suddenly felt that what was happening was bad. Mama didn’t answer, and when the boy turned to look at her she was stuffing her suitcase into the trunk of the car. “Mama,” Bim called out, this time getting her attention with a whip of her head. She looked angry again, something that the boy has been really worried about. What had been making her this way?
“What is it Bim?” she asked with a tired tone in her voice, and it was then that he saw the dark circles under her eyes, something he knew happened when someone was really tired and wanted to go to bed.
“We’re not coming back, are we?” Bim croaked, feeling tears burning behind his eyes. It hit him right then and there just how much he didn’t want to leave, and just how much they would be leaving behind. No more park with the great playground, no more school and learning cool things, no more seeing Barry and listening to his crazy stories. No more home to come back to.
His mama was in front of him before the boy realized it, kneeling down and cupping his face like she always did when he was upset, wiping away the tears he didn’t know were falling. She pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight, and Bim did the same, burying his face into her chest. He hated it when he cried, how much it hurt and how long it took to stop. It was like Hoover Dam was in his eyelids, and there was a giant crack in it that broke and let all the water flood out. It stopped eventually, but until then the waterworks would be hard and heavy. It made him feel as if he couldn’t breathe, his chest compressing and tightening until he choked on nothing.
Mama rubbed his back, humming softly in Bim’s ear. After several minutes, Bim finally pulled back a little, rubbing at him eyes in an attempt to stop himself from crying. His mama continued to rub his back, which felt nice, but he still wanted an answer to his question, and it seemed she knew it as well. Bim look up at her with the innocence and sincerity that only a child could have, and once again asked, “we’re not coming back, are we?”
Mama pursed her lips together, taking a deep breath as if she was trying to stop her own crying. “No, honey. I’m afraid we can’t come back.”
“But… but why? This is home! I like it here, and then I’ll never see Barry again,” Bim told her, feeling his chest compress even more. The thought of losing his best friend hurt too much to ignore, and especially since Barry was the only person he had managed to actually make friends with. Without him, he was all alone, even if he did have mama with him.
“Oh, honey…” mama cooed, brushing her fingers under his amber eyes. “We have to go because… we have to go to keep you safe. You’re not safe here, alright? I have to take you somewhere that is safe, where I can protect you better. Do you understand?”
Bim wanted to say yes, to trust everything his mama was saying, but at the same time, he couldn’t. What was she protecting him from? Why did it only matter now, when they’ve been here for so long? Why did they have to leave everything behind, to disappear without a trace?
“But what about everyone we’re leaving behind?”
Mama smiled sadly at that, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “You mean your friend Barry?”
Bim nodded his head slowly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks in shame, an emotion he still didn’t quite understand at the time. All he could think was that he was being unfair to mama, and how while she was out to protect him, all he could think about was a friend. It was selfish and bad, and he knew being selfish was bad because his teacher said so when one of the other children refused to share a toy dinosaur.
Mama tilted her head to the side, reminding Bim of a curious puppy when they were confused or listening to something, but mama was doing neither of those things. Instead, she was thinking about something.
“What if…” she started, brushing away some of the boy’s hair on his forehead. “I promised that you’ll see Barry again? Would that make you feel better?”
Bim instantly nodded his head, holding out his pinky finger just as many of the other kids in his class had done so before. They called it a ‘pinky promise,’ saying that there was no way to break the promise once it had been made, and to Bim, this seemed like the perfect time to use it. He hoped mama would understand that.
“Pinky promise?” the boy questioned hesitantly, shyly looking at his mama. His mother simply chuckled fondly at her child’s question, sticking out her pinky as well, wrapping it around Bim’s just like the boy saw many times before. She gently squeezed, looking him right in the eye.
“Pinky promise.”
After that, they got onto a plane, heading to a place called, ‘California.’ Bim knew from his teacher telling him that California was a state, and it was really big, but other than that, he knew next to nothing. Mama told him it was much warmer than where they lived now, which was Ohio, and that she had some good friends there that would help her. The boy still didn’t know what she needed help with, but being on a plane for the very first time was really exciting for him, and despite the sadness and achiness of leaving their home, he found he was one of the most thrilling things he’s ever done. He loved looking out the small window, watching the clouds fly by and marvel the human activity far below, wondering if this was how giraffes thought of human’s. He especially loved when they flew through the clouds; how they bended around the plane, their fluffy, cotton looking materials filling his vision. It was like being in an entirely different world, and he hoped he would feel the same way about California and whatever it had to offer. And he hoped mama would be happy too, and that she would find a way to protect him from whatever she was so afraid of.
He could hope, couldn’t he?
California seemed like a nice place, though Bim never got to see very much of it. The second they landed mama pulled out her phone, and talked to someone named, ‘Kevin,’ telling them that they had arrived at the airport. A few minutes later, the boy was dragged outside and for a brief moment felt the warm, comforting air around him and smelled the sweet fragrances that seemed to come from the plants around him, before he was promptly shoved into a car. It was black and sleek, reminding Bim of a panther running through a jungle, though this jungle was made of roads and building.
Mama said something, something the boy failed to understand. It was in some different language, one he did not speak and would not be able to speak in years. A moment later a man, who was in the front seat of this panther car, turned around and said something back, a wide smile on his face. Mama never once smiled back.
After a brief exchange, the man began driving the car, weaving in and out of traffic and giving Bim plenty of time to look at the world around him, though he was quite confused on why the windows were dark. It washed out all of the colors on the outside, keeping everything inside locked in tightly and in a sort of darkness. The boy wanted to roll down the window, but when he tried mama snapped at him not to do so. Bim didn’t do anything else the entire rest of the trip, just staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him. He decided that California seemed like a cool place, but something about it was… off. Wrong, like there was a cloud hanging over it. He didn’t know why he thought of it that way, but he knew it was correct.
A little while later, they pulled up to a house, a large, beautiful mansion that Bim thought only existed in movies with kingdoms and royalty. The boy gaped at the sight, even as he saw mama’s face turn into a deep frown.
“How does it feel to be back?” Kevin asked, a small sense of humor in his voice even as his eyes showed complete seriousness. Mama seemed to roll this over in her mind for a moment, staring harshly at the mansion.
“I wished I had burned that Hellhole to the ground.”
Kevin shrugged, opening up the door and stepping out. “Fair enough,” was all he replied with, going to the trunk to get out their luggage. Bim didn’t know if he wanted to go inside the house anymore, especially not with the comment his mama just gave. He remembered someone once saying that Hell was a bad place where all the bad people go, so does that make him a bad person?
He wanted to ask mama that, but the words died on his tongue. It was like something was physically keeping him from asking, and invisible force that was either something else or himself. Instead, he stepped out of the car and into the beautiful sun, loving the feel of it warming his skin. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature and humans alike; the chiming of bicycles and tweeting of birds all living together in harmony.
“Ready to go in, kid?”
Bim looked up to see Kevin, a small smile that never seemed to go away present on his lips. Without saying anything, the boy nodded, turning away from the beautiful outside and towards the haunting darkness that awaited him. Mama was already at the front door, looking back at the other two, waiting for them to arrive. Bim felt a hand touch his upper back, and without feeling his feet move he grew closer and closer to the house, an emotion that resembled an awful lot like dread pooling in the boy’s stomach.
And little did he know, the next time he would step out of that house would be in three years.