With the quilt momentarily distracting her, he used the opportunity to seize her. As she flailed about in attempt to get away from him, he was twisting the quilt around her more and more tightly. Using what seemed to be the strength of ten men, he picked her up and literally threw her at least five feet, screaming something about her daring to talk back to and disobey him.
When her body landed on the ground with an unceremonious thud, I saw the glint of a lighter in his hand. �No!� I screamed, �Mom! he�s going to set you on fire! Move! Go! Get up!� I sobbed and sobbed, screeching warnings at the top of my voice. I remember really inane thoughts running through my head at the same time, too. One of them was not wanting him to burn the quilt. My God. The man was getting ready to set my mother on fire and all I could think of was that I promised myself I would keep that quilt forever. It all happened so fast, though.
He was still yelling at her, using one foot to hold my quilt down so Mom couldn�t get up and the other to kick her. When he bent over, I heard the flick of the lighter and saw a spark. I was screaming and screaming. Luckily, Mom was rolling around frantically, and in his drunken state, her movement caught him off guard so he toppled over. Another inane thought I had at that time was something about the �Stop, Drop and Roll�� method really working. I think I almost laughed then, or would have, had I not been screaming so loudly.
Everything was so still and quiet for what was probably only the next few minutes, but I aged 30 years in that time frame. This next part is cauterized into my brain. The memory of it will follow me through this life, and will haunt my soul through all the lives� I�ll have after this one is over.
Mom struggled free of what had been intended to be her fiery blanket. Her first attempt to stand failed, and she fell to her knees. I think she vomited. I�m pretty sure it was nothing but blood. After stomping on the blanket, which never really caught fire she ran to me, saying, �Don�t worry. There�s only the tiniest of scorch marks. I�m sure I can fix it.� I was glad to hear I wasn�t the only one with odd thoughts at a time like this.
She said she had to get me to the car and tried to lift me. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her face was so very pale, and had adopted a gray sort of undertone. �Honey�, she said, �I�m very afraid. You--Both of us need to get to the hospital. You have to get up. I wanted to carry you, but I can�t. Get up and we can help each other to the car.�
Just as I got to my feet, we heard the rustle of body movements in the grass. Looking to where my father was, I froze in fear, once again the blood sounded in my ears. His words shuffled out like a well-used deck of cards, making noise but no sense. Mom and I clung to one another sobbing. Luck seemed to be on our side, he had clearly passed out in a drunken stupor.
I don�t remember how we got to the car. I just remember opening my eyes because I heard a strange gurgling sound coming from the driver�s seat and looking over at my mother. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel and her body seemed to be rocking back and forth. As the car progressed to the top of the hill, Mom whispered, �Oh, honey, I�m so sorry�, and a terrible odor filled the car.
�Mama, did you just have an accident?�
She turned towards me as if in a dream. The look on her face was so strange, and she nodded her head affirming her incontinence. I didn�t know what was wrong, but I knew I had to say something to make it ok. Something like that was likely to devastate my mother.
�It�s ok, Mom. We�ll take care of that. Why don�t you pull over and rest, please? I don�t think it�s safe for us to be driving right now.�
Almost as soon as I finished saying that, the car reached the very top of the hill and she slumped forward, falling into the steering wheel and depressing the gas pedal to the floor. With certain reality, I knew my mother had just died. I hoped by the time the car stopped I would be dead, too.
I was completely numb, and watching everything as though it were through a movie screen. The car seemed to maintain a straight line for quite a ways before it veered to the left, heading for a large oak tree. I couldn�t hear anything, but my sight seemed to be enhanced. Even though the car was gaining speed, I felt as though we were going very slowly because I could clearly see all the things by the road side as if we were almost at a standstill.
I woke up what seemed to be only a short time later in the sterile crispness of a cool hospital bed. The man who had caused the injuries that killed my mother was sitting on a chair next to me and I glared at him darkly.
�I�m so glad you�re....� he started.
�Murderer.� I spat at him ominously. His face paled and his slinky eyes bulged.
�What are you talking about?� He asked as he stood over me. Looking over his shoulder and seeing no one, he leaned over me. His mouth twisted in anger, but his eyes betrayed him. He was scared to death I was going to talk. Before he could touch me, I grabbed the call button and triumphantly showed him it was in my hand.
�You Bastard. Your days of controlling my every move are over.� I said as I was wrapping my fingers around his throat. With a strength I would have never thought possible, I pulled his face close to mine. �You can�t threaten me. I own you now.�