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My father told me on a regular basis that I was a mistake, an unwanted child. One day when I was twelve, I was hungry and neither mom nor father was home, so I went to the kitchen and tried to get a can of beans from the cupboard. It was too high for me to reach, so I stood on the countertop. I grabbed the can of beans, but getting down was harder and I kicked father’s pack of beer off the counter where it shattered onto the floor. As soon as my father came home from trying to find a job, he went to the kitchen immediately for his case of beer.
“John, come down this instant!” he yelled, furiously.
I exited my room and went to cower, alone, in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, father”, I stammered. “I thought nothing would happen and you would just go to the pub..."
My father’s face turned a fiery red, “Nothing would happen? Jason, did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences?” I opened my mouth but all that escaped was a squeak as father’s hand wrapped around my throat. Slowly, he undid his belt clasps and my eyes grew wide with fear. He shoved me against the wall so my back was to him. "But do you know what I think? I think you will not amount to anything in your life. You’ll be a useless bastard your whole life. And there is nothing you can do about it.” With every other word, Richard brought the belt down on my back. I squirmed, I tried to get away from the monster I called “father”.
“Please!” I cried. “Stop it!” I pleaded, but my protestations fell to deaf ears. I wanted it to all be over. I wanted to not be in pain. I wanted the lashes to end. Perhaps I wanted my tormentor to cease to exist. My back was on fire and felt slick with blood. “It was an accident! Please stop! It hurts!”, I cried out in pain. “Not only do I have a dishonest ‘thing’ in this house, I have a liar as well!” my father roared, his belt still raining on my back. I whimpered and cried. I wanted to scream that I didn’t do it, but even when I was twelve, I knew I wouldn’t be believed. I am the liar, the dishonest thing no one wants. After several minutes of screaming obscenities and lashing me, the onslaught finally ended. I lied limp on the floor, surrounded in a pool of my blood.
When he returned after a fresh pint with his friends, I had been dimly aware of my father picking me up slurring, “Well, once I correct you, your mother will come around without your bad influence.” He dragged me by my arm over to the door to the basement.
He opened it, and I remember thinking, “No. God, no!” He pushed me down the stairs, and I tripped and tumbled down the stairs, dragging a box of mason jars with me as I frantically grasped for purchase. I landed on top of the crushed mason jars, the broken glass cutting through my shirt and into my already bleeding back. My arms had cushioned my head, but they bore the brunt of the fall and I felt one snap under the pressure. I cried out in pain, but the sound sent a sharp jolt of pain flying across my skull.
I had been barely conscious enough to hear Richard, my father, say, “Reflect on your actions. I’ll come back when you’ve corrected your ways.” With that, he shut the door and left me down there for days, and he never opened the door to throw down food or drink, he just left me alone with my thoughts in the dark. I do not remember counting the amount of time as it passed. All I remember is that he threw me down on a Thursday afternoon, and when he dragged me up the stairs and threw me on my bed, it was Monday morning. At least he had taken me to the doctor for a cast for my newly broken arm.
When I next came to my senses, I was standing before the sink, holding a knife under the water. Blood rinsed off and down the drain. Whose blood is it? It wasn't mine, and father is perfectly fine next to me, so who is bleeding? Shaking, I looked down towards the floor and let out a yelp of terror. Laying face down on the floor, was my mother, blood pooling around where her chest is. Dad chuckled, "So, you twat, you finally realized what you were doin', eh?". Dropping the knife, I ran to my room, tears streaming down my face. Cackling came from beyond the door, sending shivers down my spine. I started to hyperventilate and felt dizzy. Locking the door and backing away, I thought I was safe. I was wrong.
Loud bashing noises came from the door as my father, no, the monster, started to try to break down the door. Making my way to my dresser, I opened drawer upon drawer looking for the pistol my mother gave me. Luckily, my gun was already locked and loaded, all I needed to do was remove the safety and pull the trigger. Aiming for the door, my nerves would not calm themselves. My hand was shaking. As I was getting ready, my monster of a father finally burst into the room, knife in hand. “Bang!” the gunshot rang out. My father’s body instantly crumpled to the floor. Mind racing, I screamed and cried out for help. A neighbor eventually came around and found me in my room going through shock. Though, the shock wasn’t just from my mental breakdown, it had also been caused by infection in the lash wounds from last week. As my neighbor frantically called the police and an ambulance, my mind shut off. A black canvas made it’s way over my eyes and around my thoughts like a boa constrictor. I closed my eyes, succumbing to the dark.
However, it was not long before I awoke in a white area. I wasn’t sure whether it was a mountain, forest, or a valley. Starting to walk, I wondered where I was and what happened. I did not walk far until I reached a giant, golden gate. Beside the gate was a man with wings. “Jason Salcido”, the man’s booming voice echoed. “Welcome to Valhalla.” I must have looked confused as the man continued, “You have reached the afterlife, young man. Here, you will spend an undetermined amount of time awaiting to be reborn.”
“Reborn? Did I die?”, I asked.
The man nodded gravely, “Jason Salcido, aged 12 and ¾, died in the hospital from lash wounds and a collapsed lung. Time of death: 6:47 PM, October 10th.” Stepping back, I fell onto my backside, sputtering. How could I have died? I didn’t know my lung had collapsed.
Upon standing up, I asked, “How long until I am born again?” He shrugged, though his eyes sparkled like he knew something that I had not. The gates began to open, cutting our conversation short. Beyond the gate, was my mother. Tears started to well in my eyes as I ran towards her, arms outstretched. She pulled me into her embrace, her arms encircling my smaller frame and engulfing me into her own body.
Mom patted my hair, “Jace. Shh. It is okay. Calm down, everything is alright. You did not mean anything, it is not your fault.” As she said those words, I cried even harder. The guilt burdened me so, it had been like a trance when I had brutally murdered her.
I took a step away and looked at my mother. She looked so beautiful and pristine, in a white dress just barely reaching her ankles and sleeves that draped her arms like petals of a flower. “Come with me,” mother beckoned. “Let me show you the wonders of this world.” I began to follow her around as she escorted me around a large palace of sorts.
We finally reached a large set of double doors, my mother turned to me, “Beyond these doors will be a decision for you to make. You will either answer correctly and be sent on to be reborn or you will answer incorrectly and you will have to wait another 10 years to answer a different question.” I nodded, trying to mentally prepare myself for the question waiting to be answered. As soon as I stepped toward the doors, they opened on their own, showing a path of cobblestones lined with white lilies.
I made my way towards the central grove and found a young woman sitting on a bench. As I neared the woman, she turned her head to me and smiled warmly. I could not bring myself to not smile back, as it would have been rude. She patted the seat next to her, motioning for me to sit with her.
“Jason Salcido, the life previously given to you was a trivial one. Nothing could have prepared you for something like that. However, now is your chance to prove that you are ready to pass on and be reborn as a new identity. Think carefully, now, ‘I am teary eyed but cannot cry, Silver-tongued but never lie, Double-winged but cannot fly, Air-cooled but never dry. What am I?’”
The woman disappeared after telling the riddle, leaving me to think alone. Slowly, the gears in my mind started to turn. The wings I know are a reference to the Roman god, Mercury, along with the no lying. The silver is relevant to the color and it is air-cooled but never dry. Suddenly, it clicked. The answer is the chemical element of Mercury, but how do I answer?
Shyly, I called out, “Excuse me, miss? I have the answer.”
The young woman appeared above, spiraling down a non-existent staircase. “Your answer, Jason” she asked. I lifted my head to her, gaining confidence.
“The answer is the chemical element, Mercury, miss” I replied. Another warm smile graced her features, which also left a smaller smile upon mine.
“You are correct, young one”. As I turned to say goodbye to my mother, a strange feeling came over me. I looked down, my body was disappearing, my lower half was already gone. Crying out, I ran my hands through the air underneath my abdomen. The white walls tore away to reveal a red cave, the woman in front of me changed appearance to show a horrific being. Screaming echoed all around as the rest of my body vanished, leaving my soul to wander forever until I no longer had will to stay alive. Slowly, the darkness ebbed away my misery, replacing my feelings with hollowing emptiness.