It’s ferocious.
I’m far away – and I think that’s on purpose, floating over the house looking down. I can somehow see through the ceilings as I descend down. Getting close, the scene looms larger in my mind. Sudden revulsion. I want to close my eyes but can’t – it’s a clairvoyant seeing, it just is.
The descent is a steady, slow gliding and I need to be removed a little. I come back to my earth body senses a little, the smell of the methamphetamine, moult, tickly hair, light snoring, wet saliva dripping on my chst , and most of all, her body wrapped around me, her thight draped over my genitals and an arm sprwled across my check, acrylic nails restig so lightly on the bones of my genetically wasted shoulder, the lifht pinprick harkness is like a bird being perched there. In the sorded, cheap environ ment there is a feeling of safety in the unconscoius trust of someone. I trust. I allow my consciousness to be drawnb back to the body of light.
By now, it’s uncomfortavle close to the action. Below the ceiling. My mother has her back to me kneeling and crouched over, her back hunched and right arm swinging wildly as she punches down rapidly and visiously. I cannot see me but I know I am underneather her. I’s so happy not to see her face – because I reember it, the fury and hate,. I can see my Aunts face, sitting in the chair nearby. It’s worst as she’s non-chalent.
The main feeling I can describe is revulsion, not what I felt at the time but recalling it. I feel the emotion rising and rising until I can take it no more and I’m about to return…
And suddenly, she’s there. Ara, in the room, there – in the past… with me. Not only there in the past, but ferocious in the past – and on my side. Her presense is so strong that my viewpoint changges and I am back in my body, back in time, trapped under the body-widht of y mohter in an unbearable reliving – though I only endure it for a moment until the hate suddenly vanishes from my ohter’s eyes and is replaced by something I’ve never seen there before: fear. It’s there foor a fraction of a second before she is yanked away from me with a force so powerfu she is thrown across the room and crashes into the display cabinet, Victorian porcelain crashes down and smashed over her dazed face, lines of blook dripping lines down the whocked, wide eyes expression, the red streaks on the yellowed make-up foundation resembling a grotesque and macabre marble.
Ara stands there in all her deep power shouting ferociously, but realiszing there is no resistance, she comes to me and cradles the trembling bofy in her arms so I am held in two arms, in two worlds in two times.
In both places, the instant peace ad safet released as two worlds collie is sto total and complete there is a sudden flash, a flash of time, like they say happens hwhen a person is dying. I am pulled throught a timeline of my lifeh, each moment of violence and abuse, snd she is now wsith me for all of it. Numerous acts of painful violence, school masters dragging my by my hair, sexual abuse, police throwning me to the ground. In each instance, she is there and memories I could never recall are suddenly powerless and I see a path. How a stabalising one time can make me forever free????????
I’m back. Here. Now writing this down outside Toukri Mart on street 51. A cheap girl beside me, I don’t recall her name, and another one eyeing me from the road. It’s . It’s ?lost now. I’ve written a page. Social club tonight – get my mind off things. Enough for now.