Not So?

Maya was walking in the rain.

She didn’t know whether she should be out here this late,

Or if she should be out here at all.

Her father threw a finger in her face and yelled at her,

Her mother whimpering on the living room couch.

Every protest she made was silenced with a scream.

Maya had had enough of the abuse.

The slaps, hits and punches

To the stomach, face and arms.

Her mother, crying,

Sat there on the couch

Rocking herself until she fell asleep.

She didn’t dare grab Maya

And call the police,

For her husband would grab

Her by the back of the neck

And fling her somewhere

Into the hallway,

Where she’d crash,

Maybe a hip broken.

Maya’s mother was all skin and bones.

Maya not so.

Her stomach protruded out.

Her arms were thicker than thick tree branches.

Her father laughed at her plus-size shirts she came home with,

Telling her she’d need to drop a few pounds

Just to fit into them.

Her exercise pants bulged.

Her father told her to lose the weight—

Then he’d wear a smile on his face—a real one.

Maya couldn’t take it anymore.

She, one morning, located his rifle in the closet

While he was out fishing.

He said he’d be back—

And she better have his car clean

Inside and out.

If she didn’t,

She’d receive another scar across her face.

She already receive one for not cooking potatoes

In the oven.

He had asked for them,

But she told him he needed to lay off of the calories.

He had beaten her so badly that night

She screamed at him,

Running out into the cold night air.

She didn’t care whether she was going to get mugged

Or shot at.

Death was better than her house.

House of horror.

Her mother just sat there, crying,

Wishing it’d stop.

She’d mutter that he wasn’t a bad person.

That he wasn’t meaning any of what he said

Or did

Or thought

Or…

Maya blinked,

Got up out of the bathtub,

Took a shower,

A much-needed shower,

And dried off.

Maya’s mother called her

That night,

As her parents were out of town.

Her father had a business award party.

He won a plaque award for something

He had done over the years.

Man, she smiled from ear to ear,

Hugging him tight

And congratulating him

When he came home.

He swept her up in his arms

And kissed her on the forehead,

Saying,

“Thank you, my Maya!”

Her eyes shone with joy

For her father.

His smile radiated love.

Her parents, after he had put her

Down and told her to make dinner,

Danced in the kitchen,

Celebrating.

After Maya had cooked a delicious meal

Of steak and mashed potatoes,

Maya and her parents gathered around

The fire for some pecan pie.

Her father’s favorite dessert.

He had the first slice.

Maya then sliced her mother a piece,

And then her father got up.

“I have to go.”

Tears streamed down Maya’s face

At her father’s departure.

“No, daddy!” The older teen protested.

“Maya!”

His firm tone silenced her.

“You know what he has to do.”

“Yes…ma’am.”

Maya didn’t dare go against her mother’s wishes

For her to excel like her father.

She hated the college,

And switched majors.

It just wasn’t her.

Her mother left.

Telling Maya she’d never talk to her again

Should she pursue something other than

Business,

Maya’s mother left her country.

Maya, tears streaming down her face,

Begged her mother to stay.

Her mother yelled at her,

Pushing her away.

Maya didn’t talk to her mother,

Hadn’t talked

In a year.

She angrily told a grocery store clerk

To hurry up with her groceries,

Grabbed them, ignoring the confused, concerned grocer

As she stormed out of the store.

Maya dropped the groceries

Onto the kitchen table

As her cat hopped up onto it.

“Down, boy!”

The cat didn’t move.

It just sat there.

Maya yelled at it to move,

But it didn’t.

Maya grabbed it by its scruff

And tossed it,

It hissing when it landed on all fours.

Maya just emptied the bags.

Pulling out a glass,

She treated herself.

Her father, she knew,

Was on one of his business trips.

She blinked,

The cat reacted,

The glass fell,

Smashing to a thousand pieces.

Screaming at the cat,

Maya raged for some time.

Tears poured down her already red face.

She cleaned up the mess,

Dumping the shards into a trashcan.

Some objects came to life

When Maya was putting the broom and handle

Away in the closet.

The broom and handle turned into snakes,

Beautiful creatures, scarlet and sapphire.

Maya backed away, eyes sparkling with fear.

“Okay—okay,

Kitty. Come here!”

It didn’t show up.

“I’m sorry!”

She must’ve meant it because

The cat came trotting back

To the kitchen.

“I’m…sorry.”

The cat leapt into her arms

And Maya went over to the

Couch and sat down,

Stroking the innocent animal.

“I was angry, and I didn’t need

To hurt you.”

The cat curled up in her lap,

And purred, Maya stroking it.

The lamps, TV, table, its chairs,

All becoming animals.

Maya startled but felt she shouldn’t be surprised.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?”

She felt she should answer that question with a no.

Maya waited for her father to knock.

He never did.

“I’ll get the door!”

Strange, Maya thought.

He’s supposed to be coming home after dinner.

She went to the clock.

It read 5:05pm.

He was supposed to walk in the doorway

At 4:30pm.

No father showed up.

Maya shrugged.

When the sapphire snake slithered

Back into the kitchen,

Saying there was no one at the door,

Maya nodded.

Good. I don’t want him to freak out.

But Maya waited for her father

To come home.

She didn’t know what was taking him

So long.

He promised to be home

This time.

He promised he’d write to her mother.

And that her mother would write back.

Maya didn’t know.

Was he even on a business trip?

Did he even go on that plane?

Did he even show up at the airport?

Maya shivered, loneliness descending like a cloud

Upon her, resting heavily.

She curled up with a blanket

From one of the leather chairs.

Mom left.

Did Dad, too?

Do they not love me?

Did my dream come true?

They’re abandoning me because

I don’t do business like Dad?

Maya ran to the door when she heard a knock.

But when she got there

And looked through the apartment door’s peephole,

She didn’t see anyone.

“Who is it?”

No one answered.

She opened it.

And smiled.

“Oh—

Mom,

It’s you!”

One of the animals barked that it wasn’t her mother.

The wolf dove for Maya,

She falling to the carpeted hallway floor of

Her small apartment room.

“What—”

“I’m trying to protect you…”

“Maya!”

The wolf, leaping away,

Told her as soon as Maya got up

That to answer the door

Was to ask death to take her away.

All the animals gathered as one team

In a group to defeat this evil.

Maya was naïve.

Like she’d understand, one snake hissed.

The wolf snapped at her.

The snake shrugged.

“Maya’s—”

“You turning on me?”

But Maya’s cat told her

The snake was talking about her mother.

Maya shook her head.

“Let’s go!”

The wolf told her to get something—

Anything—

To defend herself with.

Maya ran to the broom closet,

But she could hear cackling

Coming from the hallway.

Shaking, Maya held the broom

In such a way that the animals

Said that if they weren’t there

To protect her,

She’d be dead.

It took more than a broom to defend Maya from such an evil.

“Maya, dear, it’s me, your mother. I came back. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry your father pressured you into all this business degree stuff. Please—give me a chance.”

Maya shivered, tightening her grasp on the broom's handle.

All the animals circled her defensively.

Her cat leapt upon one of Maya’s shoulders, sitting with her chest out and back straight, ready for anything.

“Come on, Maya. Please. You know your mother. Trust me. I’m the only parent who can help you get where you want to go. I care about your future. I’m your mother. Don’t you want to greet your own loving mother at the door when she comes for you?”