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“Where are we going, Mama?” Lloyd asked for what felt like the millionth time. He tugged on her hand with as much strength as his little frame could muster. Despite not knowing where they were going, he tried to pull her forward, excited about the surprise. But his mother was firm in not telling him a thing.
“You’ll find out soon, baby.” She smiled down at him, eyes full of sadness. Lloyd couldn’t recognize this emotion, though. All he saw were his mothers eyes. They held nothing but love, that’s all they ever held. Big, green eyes. Round with adoration. A beacon of safety. Those eyes meant Lloyd was right where he was meant to be. Those eyes meant home. He was too young to see the slight creases in the corners, or the heavy circles beneath.
“I’m not a baby.” Lloyd pouted, although his hand never loosened its grip on his mother’s arm.
Misako only smiled. “I know. You’re growing up to be so strong, aren’t you?”
This satisfied Lloyd. He hummed contentedly, turning back to focus on the path ahead.
“But, you’ll always be my baby,” Misako continued, voice strained just a bit. “No matter how old, or how strong you become. You’re still my baby. Always remember that.”
Lloyd tilted his head to look up at her. He had to bend his neck quite a lot, to be able to meet her gaze. His mother was so tall—at least compared to Lloyd—and such a beautiful force. In Lloyd’s eyes, she was equivalent to royalty. But, it really isn’t all that uncommon, for one to view their mother in such high regard. A mother brings life, and delicately crafts it with her bare hands. Misako did it all on her own. She cared for Lloyd, day after day, ensuring he was safe. It was the two of them against the world, and that’s how it always would be.
“Okay, Mama.” He gave in easily, never once doubting her. She always knew what to do, what was best. He had no reason not to trust her.
They walked in silence from that point on, hand in hand. Lloyd’s young innocence was grossly prominent as he pulled Misako along, ignorant smile plastered on his lips. He had no idea where they were headed. Not a worry plagued his mind, because he was right where he belonged. He was with his mom, and that meant he was at home.
“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” Misako murmured a while later. Her steps never faltered, not even once. Even despite the way her heart skipped in her chest. “Just a little further.”
Lloyd sped up his pace, far too excited for what was coming. Oh, if only he knew. If he had known, in that moment, what would happen next. Would things have been different? Could he have done something, to change her mind? Lloyd would never know the answer to these questions. Because, the hard truth remains; he had been blissfully unaware.
There’s something quite remarkable about blissful ignorance. It’s a safe haven, of sorts. A warm blanket, draped over one’s head, blinding them from the hurtful truths of the world. Maybe Misako had been right, to shield Lloyd from it. The truth would have been too much for such a young child. A child barely old enough to be in school, let alone to carry the weight of truth. Especially this one.
Finally, they approached a gate. Towering and ominous, the wrought iron doorway reflected the lingering light of the setting sun. Misako took in a sharp breath, coming to a halt before they could cross the threshold. She knelt to her knees, crouching before Lloyd to cup his cheeks tenderly in both hands.
Lloyd seemed confused by the action, but didn’t protest. He just stared into his mother’s eyes, unable to speak due to the light pressure around his jaw.
When Misako spoke, her voice was heavy with repressed sorrow. “Lloyd. I want you to know that I love you. Okay?” She did everything in her power to keep her words steady, to not let Lloyd know how much pain she felt. “No matter what, no matter where I am, I will always love you. You know that, right?”
Lloyd nodded as much as he was able. Of course he knew. His mother told him every day, how much she loved him. It was a sort of unspoken agreement, between mother and child, to love one another unconditionally. Lloyd didn’t yet know that this wasn’t always the case. It would be a rather desolate fate, for a child so young to know the bounds of conditional love. But Lloyd had been protected. For the entirety of his budding life, he had been shown nothing but pure love. He didn’t know any different. He always saw the best, in everything and everyone.
Misako just gazed at him, for several long minutes. Lloyd didn’t yet understand the gravity of this moment. He didn’t realize this would be his last chance to be held by his mother, to be cared for as a child. He didn’t know that he would never again fit so perfectly in her arms. That her embrace would never again feel the same. If only he could’ve known. He would have clung to her just a bit longer. He wouldn’t have let go so easily. He would’ve tried harder to remember the way her hug felt. The way his whole face fit within her hands. The way her touch could warm his entire body. The way she made him feel so safe.
If only he had known that the next time he would see her, everything would be different.
And the change began mere seconds later, when a man came to take Lloyd away. When Misako let go, and urged him to take the man’s hand.
Lloyd screamed. As loud as he could, begging his mom to come back. His tiny fingernails dug into the man’s rough skin, struggling against his hold. Over and over, Lloyd called out for her, voice high and wavering.
Misako turned away, eyes fluttering closed. She couldn’t stand to face his tears, to hear his cries. She hesitated for just a moment, one fleeting second. But before long, she took a step. And another, and another. Until she was nothing but a flicker on the horizon.
Lloyd cried, and cried, and cried.
He clawed at the man’s arms with an aggression he didn’t think himself capable of. The noises torn from his mouth were louder than any he’d ever made before. They hurt his own ears, but he still didn’t stop. Even when he could no longer see his mother, even when the man’s strength overcame his own, he never once ceased. He cried until his throat was raw, until he’d dried up every last tear, until his voice was so overused that his efforts stopped producing sound.
Lloyd cried, and cried, and cried.
But Misako didn’t come back.
••••
The first night was the hardest.
Predictably, it was rather taxing on Lloyd. Adjusting to a new home is not often easy, especially when one isn’t expecting the change. And a child spending his first night without his mother? It was terrifying, to put it bluntly.
And so Lloyd cried. He thought he had exhausted himself, but that didn’t appear to be the case when he broke down once more. His throat was still sore from his meltdown just a few hours earlier, and that only made these sobs hurt that much worse.
He bawled like a baby— which he wasn’t, of course. Even though, in that moment, he truly felt like one. He couldn’t hold it in, he wasn’t sure he even knew how. So it all spilled out of him, as he sat on the floor of the dormitory. He was curled into himself, attempting to shield his body from the eyes of others. His roommates, specifically.
There were a few of them, Lloyd didn’t know their names. They seemed terribly hostile, and he hadn’t been too eager to approach them and ask.
A floorboard creaked from somewhere across the room, and Lloyd froze, stifling his cries. He peeked over his arm, which was concealing his face, to see a figure moving in the darkness. One of the boys he roomed with, presumably.
The boy crawled out of bed slowly, motions hesitant and cautious. He made his way across the room, making as little sound as possible. Lloyd only watched him suspiciously, not moving from his position at the foot of his bed.
The boy tiptoed up to Lloyd, eyes bright with an emotion Lloyd couldn’t discern. It was concern, perhaps mixed with a little sympathy; but Lloyd didn’t know that yet.
Lloyd flinched slightly when the boy sat down next to him. But still, Lloyd didn’t pull away.
“Are you okay?” The boy whispered, watching Lloyd imploringly.
Lloyd sniffled in response.
“I cried too,” the boy continued. “My first day here.”
It was a simple statement, one that shouldn’t necessarily hold much weight. But it made Lloyd feel exponentially better.
“Really?” Lloyd choked out, rubbing at his eyes to clear his clouded vision.
The boy nodded. “It was kinda scary.”
That was a bit of an understatement. But it got the point across well enough. Lloyd’s spirits raised, even if by just a miniscule amount. He lifted his head to look at the boy more clearly, quirking it to the side as if to ask an unspoken question.
The boy understood. “My name’s Brad.”
He smiled kindly at Lloyd, and it was the first welcoming gesture he had received since his arrival.
“I’m Lloyd,” he returned, still a bit unsure of the interaction. But he was warming up quickly, never one to see the worst in others.
Lloyd’s tears dried up soon after, Brad’s presence enough to preoccupy his youthful mind.
“Just… be careful around some of the others,” Brad said after a moment of silence. “They can be, you know, kinda mean sometimes. But that’s why we’re here. We’re all bad kids.”
There was a flash of something sad that came over Brad’s face. He looked down to fidget with his hands, resting them in his lap.
“Bad?” Lloyd asked tentatively, his voice quavering.
Brad nodded solemnly. “Yeah. This school is for kids like us. We’re evil, and unwanted by anyone.”
“Oh,” Lloyd said softly. That didn’t make much sense. He certainly didn’t belong in a place such as this. He was a good kid. His mother told him all the time. He couldn’t be evil. And he wasn’t unwanted, he had his mom. His mom, who had… left him. His mom had left him. Did she not want him anymore? She said she would always love him, but… could she no longer stand to be around him? To care for him? Did he truly belong here, after all? “Do you not have a family?”
Brad didn’t answer for several quiet seconds, but eventually shook his head slowly. “No. They didn’t want me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Brad shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“I… My parents didn’t want me either,” Lloyd supplied helplessly. Brad looked up, an expression of feeling understood adorning his features. “My mom left me here. I thought— I thought she wanted me, but… I guess she didn’t. And I don’t even know my dad that well. My mom took me away from him. She never told me anything, but I think— I think he’s bad.”
Brad watched Lloyd as he spoke, eyes wide with sadness. The room was silent, save for the faint sound of breathing. “You’ll fit in here,” he said after a minute.
“Huh?” Lloyd wasn’t following the turn of conversation.
“I just meant, you’ll fit in. You know, with the kids here. We all have a sucky past. And we all lost our parents at some point. Or they lost us; one of those.”
Lloyd thought Brad must be very wise. He appeared to be about the same age as Lloyd, but he spoke with such… knowing. As if he had already experienced so much in his short years, and it had sculpted him in a way that showed for it.
“Oh. Okay, that’s… that’s good.” Lloyd honestly wasn’t sure if it was good. But he supposed it was better than the alternative, not fitting in. He didn’t want to be an outcast.
“Just be careful, okay?” Brad met Lloyd’s eye, and Lloyd could tell he was serious. “Some people here… Well, it’s just better to fit in. Don’t draw attention.”
Lloyd nodded, showing he understood. This caused the knot in his stomach to tighten painfully, making him feel sick. But he stayed strong. He wouldn’t show weakness, not here.
“You might have to do things, in order to fit in. Things you don’t want to do. But we have no choice. Okay, Lloyd? Don’t take it too personally.”
Lloyd didn’t know what that meant. What kind of things? He wasn’t sure how far he’d be willing to go, just to fit in. But Brad looked so grave, and that made Lloyd think he may end up doing more than he ever thought himself capable of.
He didn’t know why, but he trusted Brad. He believed he was telling Lloyd the truth, being ernest. But he had a sinking feeling that this alliance wouldn’t last long. There didn’t appear to be friends here, in this place. Acquaintances, sure. But the air itself had a chill to it, a foreboding aura. This wasn’t somewhere he could ever consider home.
When he and Brad finally bid goodnight, the two going their separate ways and crawling into their respective beds, Lloyd laid awake. He was a bit scared to close his eyes, if he was being honest. So instead, he stared up at the ceiling, examining every crack and cobweb. He tried to imagine his mother’s face above him, picturing her big, kind eyes. That made him feel a bit better, at least. He tried not to think of their last interaction, or the way she had turned and left without a word. How he had cried out for her to come back. He didn’t think about those things.
No, he just thought about her eyes. He hoped, maybe, if he thought hard enough, they would become engraved into his brain. So he would never forget the warmth they held. He clung to the memory, doing everything he could to store the exact shade of green, the precise curve of the eyelid, the delicate motion of lashes pressed against the cheek. He pictured all of this, the pieces coming together to form an image in his head. When he really focused, it was almost as if she was actually there, right in front of him. It was as close as he could get to seeing his mother again.
He finally drifted off to sleep like that, pretending his mom was there with him. His imagination was almost as good as the real thing. Almost.
Truly, Lloyd had never felt so alone. He felt alone, and small, and weak. His petite body was dwarfed by his new bed, in more ways than one. It wasn’t necessarily that much bigger in comparison to his size, but it felt gargantuan. He felt exposed on all sides, chilled to his very core.
Sometime during his restless sleep, Lloyd unconsciously curled into himself. His knees were brought up to his chest, as if that would fill the cold, gaping hole inside.
He was plagued by nightmares. Flashing images of their last moments, the retreating back of his mother walking in the opposite direction.
Lloyd felt so immensely hopeless, he couldn’t possibly fathom feeling any worse. But as soon as the sun would rise, as soon as the next day broke, he would come to the crushing realization that this would pale in comparison to what was coming. He had yet to hit rock bottom. But each day following, he would sink closer and closer to reaching it.
This day— this horrible, horrible day— was merely a turning point.
A stepping stone on the path, leading him down a winding road of horrible, horrible days.