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Chapter 2
        'Music is the medicine of the mind.' –John Logan

   My old friend, Johnny, from grade school all the way till my junior year when I moved out here & then dropped out of school, use to tell me this all the time especially when I felt like I wanted to die. He told me just to start singing & everything will get better. It always worked & I thought about Johnny & how much I had really loved him & never got to tell him. I would start singing now, to clear my head, but I'm crying so hard my voice keeps cracking & smoking & doing drugs have rendered my musical talents useless. So I think about my favorite song, Going Nowhere by The Cure. It's not helping. I'm having a panic attack now. I can't breathe & I'm writhing in the middle of the stairs, feeling nauseous & completely insane. I scream at the top of my lungs for help, but no one comes to my rescue.

   "This is it. I'm done for… This is the end." I say gasping for air.

   'Oh stop it. It's just a panic attack; if you just calm down & breathe slowly you'll be fine.' She sits down next to me on the stairs & rests her imaginary hand on my forehead & runs it through my hair to try & clam me down.

   "That's, *gasp* what, * gasp, gasp* what mom used *gasp* to do. *gasp*." I close my eyes & open them after a good minute or so & she is no longer me, she's my mother.
She's running her hand through my hair & singing softly, 'Everything. Will be alright.' She is crying too. She probably disappointed in the life I've been living.

    "*gasp* do you, *gasp, gasp, gasp, gasp*," each breath is so painful, "Hate, *gasp* me?" she shushes me softly & still runs her hand trough my hair.

    'No baby, why would you ever think that?' she is still crying.
I still can't breath. Catching just enough breath to muster up the words, "Cause I'm a f* up. & you left me, left me with him."

     'I never left you baby & I never gave up, god just decided it was my time to leave. I'm so sorry, baby.' She's crying harder now. I know she's just a figment of my imagination but I feel bad for even bringing it up. 'Leaving you with him was not the plan, for you or Beau, you were suppose to go live with my sister Judy. Macaybre, baby, I'm so sorry this happened. I would never...' She stops her sentence & buries her head in her hands & cries.

   "*gasp* I... Know," I can't speak anymore, it hurts to much, so I just lay there & try to breathe.

   'Breathe baby Cay. Just breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale..." She repeats slowly & surely I follow & do as she says. 'That's it, just clam down & breathe. Everything will be alright,' she kisses my forehead & I can feel it! Like she really there sitting next to me, taking care of me, & protecting me.

    "I miss you mom..." tears are still streaming down my face. Tears of pain, of sadness, & anger. I'm crying to had to speak. I'm crying as hard as any one person can & it feels nice, relaxing, & peaceful, so I just fall asleep.
About 7 hours later, I wake up to him kicking me in the side & screaming, "What the F*!? What the hell do you think you're doing!? Didn't I tell you to clean the house!? God!! You don't do a damn thing around here!!! What the hell would your mother say!?"

    I snap & stand up & yell at him, "You don't talk about her!! You have no right! You never loved her or me!" I'm still dizzy so I lean against the railing of the stair case, "What about you!? You don't do jack around here! & you never have! That's right you don't do anything! You're a greedy, selfish bastard! & I hope you die!!!" He smacks me so hard I have to hold tight to the railing. "What do you do huh? Nothing! I cook, I clean, I went to school, and I had a job! I did all of that & took care of you, Beau, & myself! Never once in nearly a year of living here have I seen you do anything except get blown & go to work! SO FUCK YOU!!!" Tears are filling my eyes, I take a deep breath, "I can't do this anymore! We can't do this anymore! I need help & Beau needs his sister. You need help too, dad." I run down the stairs & grab everything of the table & walk back up the stairs, "I'M DONE!"

   He sees what I am about to down & half way up the stairs he pushes me back down. I land at the bottom feeling broken. "Don't you ever touch my shit again!! I bought you everything & asked for nothing!!" He walks down the stairs past my, what seems to be, broken body & head straight for the fridge & right for his Vodka. He opens the bottle, takes a drink , & heads straight for me. Not wanting to know what's on his mind, I sit up against the wall & throw the pipes at him thinking it'll stop him, it doesn't. All three of the pipes hit him & shatter in the floor. He's mad now.... No, not mad, enraged...

   'We're in for it now... Quick hurry up the stairs!' I struggle a little to get up but I make it & run up the stairs. He throws his bottle of Vodka at me. It misses & shatters against the wall. 'Quick! Get to the kitchen! Grab something sharp!' The voice I hear, it's not my own, nor is it in my mind. I run into the kitchen & grab the first thing I see... a knife. & I realize the voice I'm hearing is my mom's, trying to help me & protect me.
    'Hurry baby! He's coming! Hide!' her voice sounds alarmed...
I take a glance to see where he is & he's not running... He's... Walking? He gets up the last step & I run toward the hall & grab the phone, 'That's my girl, smart.' & I run into the bathroom. I lock the door,  flush his stash & hide in the bathtub.
I can hear his foot steps coming down the hall, "Cay, Baby! I don't wanna hurt you! I…" He opens the hall closet, "Just want to talk to you!" my room, he makes sure to check carefully each room I might be in, "You know? Like old times?" My brothers room…
I finally work up enough to press the "talk" button on the phone, I dial 9-1-1 as he goes in each room looking carefully for me.

   "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" A lady on the other side of the phone answers.

  "Hello!? Help! I need Help!" I'm crying & whispering as soft as I can.

   "Calm down miss, what is your emergency?" Her voice sounds automated, unconcerned… trained.

   "My dad! He's going to fucking kill me! My name is Macaybre, I live on 27-17 north Ontario drive!" I keep the phone to my ear for a response, but I'm listening for my dad's foot steps. I don't hear him? I listen more intently. I hear him… His heavy breathing on the other side of the door… He knows where I am… He knows I've called the police… He's infuriated…

   The door is still locked, luckily. He keeps trying to open the door. He leaves for only moments & comes back with what I'm guessing to be a screw driver. He's picking it! He's picking the god damn lock! The door knob turns ever so slowly. I clench the knife in my right hand, holding the phone in my left, & wait for him to open the door.

   "He's coming…" I whisper absently into the phone. The lady on the phone sounds concerned, I know she's not, & she's yelling at me to talk to her but I don't, I just wait & listen… There's a light breaking the darkness of the bathroom… "I love you, mom…" I whisper louder, "See you soon…"

   "What!? Ma'am!?" The lady shouts as I think to myself, 'This lady really doesn't care.

   "Maycaybre…" He says in his angered & in his devilish voice.
Scared to do anything at all, the only thing I my body has the will to do is press one button on the phone…

   "Ma'am!?!?"

   Click….