Insatiable Revenge

by Cynthia Freeman Gibbs

  “Simone,” Olivia cried and dropped to her knees after seeing the multiple cuts on her daughter’s forearm. She estimated seven shallow marks of different lengths. Some were fresh and still bleeding. Others were scabbed or faded scars. “What is this?”

  “Stop, Mom. You're hurting me.” Simone attempted to snatch her arm from Olivia’s grasp. She couldn’t escape.

  “Simone. Are you cutting yourself?” Olivia shrieked. She couldn’t stop looking at the broken skin on her daughter’s arm.

  Simone didn’t answer. Her arm fell limp in Olivia’s hand in defeat. She turned her head and gazed at a wall as if in shame of the discovery. Tears streamed across her face in a silent cry.

  Olivia couldn’t conjure up additional words. Her remembrance as a survivor of self-injury soared to the front of her mind. Sadness swept through her with the thoughts of choosing bulimia as a coping mechanism after clashing with her mother as a child. She knew the long-lasting effects it could have on into adult life.

  Her experience as a psychologist kicked into gear. She spoke in a softer tone to coax out a response. “Honey. Why do you have marks on your arm?” Olivia released her grip and raised from her knees to sit on the bed. She placed a hand on Simone’s shivering back.

  Something silver protruded from underneath the covers. Olivia reached beneath the sheet and removed a paring knife.

  She drew in a sharp breath after noticing specks of blood on the blade. “Simone. Turn around. We need to talk.”

  A sob emerged from Simone. She fell forward on the bed and plopped her face onto a pillow. Wails of distress accompanied her tears.

  “Momo,” Olivia called Simone by her nickname and drew her closer. She rocked her until the sobs subsided to whimpers. “It’s okay.” Tears pooled in her eyes. Seeing her child in pain hurt her to the core.

  “Mom?” Christian stood in the doorway with a slice of pizza in his hand. His brows drew together. His eyes darted back and forth, from his mother to sister. “What’s wrong with Simone?”

  “She’s going to be okay,” Olivia replied. “Your sister and I need to chat in private. Please close the door for me.”

  “But, Mom,” Christian began.

  Simone lifted her head and yelled, “Go away.”

  “You’re being mean. I’m not saving you any pizza,” Christian replied in defense.

  Olivia raised her palm to stop Christian from speaking. “Honey. Please go back to the other room to finish eating. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  Christian closed the door with purposeful slowness in apparent reluctance.

  Simone laid her cheek on Olivia’s chest. Her coveted wet, long eyelashes nearly brushed her brows with each blink as her tears subsided. The tenseness in her body was released as she relaxed in her mother’s arms.

  “Honey, tell me what’s going on with you.” Olivia knew from her professional experience to not go hard on Simone right now. “What made you decide to cut yourself with a knife?”

  “I…I…I want to die.” Simone hiccupped.

  Although shocked, Olivia recognized the words as common statements by kids who begin self-harm. Their goal isn’t to commit suicide for the most part. They are seeking to distract themselves from intense emotional distress. She proceeded with caution and steadied her voice. “Why do you want to die? You know Daddy, Christian, and I would be sad if we didn’t have you here.”

  “I don’t want to move to Miami and you don’t want us anyway. You wanted to kill us in the fire like my friends keep telling me.” Simone jerked away. She wrung her hands and tears flowed again.

  “No, Simone,” Olivia said, her voice stern. “Your friends are not telling you the truth. I was angry with your Dad. It had nothing to do with you and Christian. I didn’t know you were both in the house. It doesn’t make what I did right. I never intended to harm the two of you.” Olivia tried to remain calm.

  “But why are you making us go to Miami? It’s not fair. I don’t wanna go somewhere away from my friends. I’m gonna be all alone and no one will like me.” Simone teetered on the verge of becoming hysterical. She hiccupped in between words.

  Olivia patted and rubbed Simone’s back to reduce her anxiety. She grabbed a napkin from the nightstand and wiped her daughter’s face before speaking again.

  “Momo. I know this all seems to be the worst thing ever to happen in your life. It has been rough for all of us. I don’t want you to move to Miami either. What is unfortunate is until I finish the requirements issued by the judge, I can’t have custody of you and Christian.” Olivia noticed Simone’s body tensing up again. “Your Dad believes it will be good for you

  both to be away from San Antonio based on how kids have been treating you guys. You’ll make new friends the same way you have here.”

  “No, I won’t,” Simone whined. “My friend Karen said they’ll make fun of me. She said I don’t look like anyone there.”

  Olivia sat back confused. “What did Karen mean?”

  Simone sniffled. “She said everybody is light-skinned and real pretty in Miami. Since I’m dark-skinned, I won’t fit in.”

  Olivia flashed back to the days of her insecurities with having a dark skin tone. She’d developed tactics to make sure her kids had confidence in themselves.

  Since books with pictures of children who looked like hers were scarce, she created them herself. Nothing ever indicated Simone or Christian were uncomfortable with their God-given color. They never expressed wishing for different features. She knew the importance of helping them form a solid sense of identity to keep them from doubting or questioning their self-worth as she did.

  “Simone. God made us all in His image. You know you are beautiful,” Olivia said. “I bet you, your friend has never been to Miami. I’ve been there many times and know, there are people of every shade of brown. You can’t even imagine the range of skin color you will see. Don’t let someone’s opinion and ignorance make you think something is wrong with you. She doesn’t have a clue about what beauty is. Do you understand me?”

  After taking several breaths, Simone squared her shoulders as Olivia always instructed her to do and lifted her head. “Yes, Mama. I understand.”

  Realizing she’d broken through to her daughter, Olivia wrapped her arms around her to protect her from the ways of the world. She drew back and gazed into Simone’s eyes. “Good. Don’t ever forget what I’ve been telling you for years.”

  Simone nodded her head in agreement. “Okay.”

  “We need to discuss what’s going on with you when your dad arrives. We’ll see what Dr. Hennings recommends to help you as well.”

  Simone’s eyes widened in fear. “I don’t wanna tell Dad. He’s gonna get mad and ground me.”

  “He’ll be upset when he first finds out. We’ll tell him together. It’ll be alright,” Olivia said. She hoped Malcolm didn’t lose his temper.

  Simone chewed her lip. She seemed to calm down. “Okay.”

  “Are you cutting yourself anywhere else on your body?”

  Simone hesitated before confessing. “Yes. On the back of my legs.”

  “Show me,” Olivia instructed.

  Simone obeyed and lowered her jeans to show her the marks on her hamstrings. She reached back to make the skin taut. “Here and here. That’s it.”

  Olivia inspected the faded cuts. “Have you used anything other than this knife to cut with?” Olivia inquired and helped her put her pants back on.

  “Yes. I used one of Mariah’s razors on my legs.” Simone raised the sleeve on her other arm and showed Olivia an area with several tiny punctures that had healed. “I also use tacks to poke myself sometimes.”

  Olivia tried to refrain from responding in alarm. “Okay. I appreciate the fact you shared this information with me. You’re brave for being honest. Momo, I must ask you, how did you learn to cut yourself? Did someone from school teach you?”

  Simone grabbed her phone from the nightstand. She used />
  her thumb to scroll through a few pages of apps until she clicked on one. When it opened, she handed the phone to Olivia. “This app. They have different challenges for us to do. There are videos on how to cut yourself.”

  Astonished, Olivia’s eyes glued to the screen as she examined the app. “The people who create these types of things are pure evil. Are your friends using it, too?”

  Simone shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. I heard some girls talking about it at lunchtime.”

  “I can’t believe they are challenging people to jump from rooftops and hurt themselves. What kind of deranged people create this stuff?” Olivia exclaimed as she scrutinized the application. “Someone will lose their life from attempting these things.”

  “I haven’t done anything else on there. Only the cutting. I don’t really want to die.”

  Olivia kissed the top of her head between the afro-puffs. “I know. We don’t want you to die either. Your body is precious and worth protecting. You may feel anxiety and stress about everything going on right now, which is normal. I believe you are strong enough to keep from harming yourself. You are beautiful and valuable and your life has meaning and significance. I love you and I mean it.” Olivia realized she needed to absorb the same words to apply to herself.

  “I love you too, Mama.” Simone’s shoulders relaxed. She seemed relieved to have her secret in the open.

  “We’re going to get additional help for you. In the meantime, let’s work together and think of some healthier ways for you to cope. I will always be here for you. Promise me, you won’t cut anymore. Okay, baby?” She studied Simone’s face for signs indicating she’d gotten through to her.

  “Okay. I promise,” Simone hugged Olivia tight. They held each other for a moment before letting go. “I’m hungry.”

  Olivia laughed. “Come on. Go wash your face. Let’s see if your brother devoured all of the pizza and wings.”

  Simone ran from the room with a lighter step than Olivia had seen in months. Her daughter would need a lot of counseling; a breakthrough in the storm had finally come.

  SIXTEEN

  Savvy

  Pharrell and Savvy. Savannah and Pharrell. Mr. and Mrs. Pharrell Montague. Pharrell Montague and Savannah Menefee. Savvy wrote their names in cursive and again in print on a piece of paper at her kitchen table until she filled out an entire page as if she were a teenager. She shook her head and crumbled the paper to toss into a trashcan.

  Savvy balanced her cell phone between her ear and shoulder.

  “Uh-huh. Thanks again for sending the congratulations card for my promotion. Have a good time out with Daddy on the golf course. By the way, I ordered a new golf driver for his birthday. He’s going to love it. Don’t tell him. It’s a surprise. Alright, I love you too, Mama. Tell Daddy hi for me.” Savvy ended the call with her mother.

  Her heart swelled from missing her parents. Getting off the phone with them became tougher each time they talked due to her desire to be together. Once she finished transitioning into her new job, she planned to head to their mid-western home for a much-needed vacation.

  Savvy’s phone beeped with a text message. Her heart jumped when Pharrell’s name showed.

  Hope u have an appetite. I’m going full-throttle on preparing this meal for u. See you at 7. – Pharrell.

  She had quite an appetite for him. She laughed and texted: I’m looking forward to it. See u soon.

  Savvy began humming a non-distinctive happy melody. She opened a picture on her phone of the two of them and studied it. They figured out how to snap a perfect selfie at the Spurs game in which they appeared to be a couple in love.

  Her phone rang in her hand, breaking her goo-goo gaga moment.

  “Hey, Olivia.”

  “Hey, Girl. Whatchu up to? I’m thinking about catching a movie or something.”

  “Aww, man. I would love to. I can’t though. Tonight’s the night Pharrell is cooking dinner for me at his house.”

  “Is it tonight? I forgot. My brain is too full.”

  “Yup. I can’t wait to taste what he prepared.” Savvy laughed with giddiness. “What are you going to do since I can’t join you for a movie?”

  “Not much. I need to purge my brain from everything going on right now. You won’t believe what Simone has been doing to herself.”

  Alarmed, Savvy snapped out of her Pharrell dream zone. “What? What happened?”

  “She’s cutting.” Olivia sounded distressed.

  “Cutting herself? With what?” Savvy slapped her hand to her head.

  “With a knife and a razor. She has also used tacks to poke through her skin.”

  “Oh, dear Lord. How did you find out?”

  “I caught her when I stopped by their apartment after the game last night.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? I can’t believe you had to deal with this by yourself.”

  “I know. We had a long night. By the time Malcolm got home, we had a conversation with him and Mariah to explain what’s been going on. He about blew a gasket. His fiancée pulled out rosary beads and started reciting Hail Mary’s. I thought she’d end up having to go back to the urgent care clinic with her dramatic acting. I had to calm both of them down.”

  “I can only imagine,” Savvy said. “Why did you have to include Mariah in the conversation?”

  “Simone used one of her razors. Also, the entire household needs to be aware to keep an eye on her,” Olivia explained. “People don’t realize how self-harm affects everyone around them.”

  “Good point,” Savvy replied. “How traumatic.”

  “It is. I’m glad we were able to make some headway with Simone. She had an appointment with Dr. Hennings today.”

  “Good. I pray she doesn’t cut herself anymore. How scary for all of you.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m grateful for finding out now instead of it turning into something worse. It’s addictive. She told us about a kid at her school who has a cutting kit.”

  “A cutting kit? What is that?” Savvy asked in horror.

  “This kid cut out a square in a book where he keeps his razors, knife, staples, alcohol pads, and band-aids. The girls wear several hair scrunchies on their arms to hide their cuts. It’s like a secret society where the kids share ways to create self-harm kits. Quite disturbing. I plan to call the school principal and counselor to inform them about Simone and the activities of other students.”

  “They need to be aware of this issue. Perhaps the school could develop a program to address cutting. I had no idea kids are doing this to themselves.”

  “Not just kids. Adults too. I’ve counseled a few patients who were cutters. I never imagined my child would be one of them.”

  “You don’t think a kid like Simone would even harm herself in this way. My poor niece was crying out for help.” Savvy balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear to free her hands to paint her fingernails. “I know this is upsetting for you. She’s been through a lot. Try to be patient with her.”

  “I know. Maybe it’s a combination of her being close to becoming a pre-teen along with this other stuff. I need a break from this stress. It can’t be good for my health.”

  Savvy blew on her bright turquoise blue nails. The color matched the dress she planned to wear for the dinner date. “What are you going to do to help yourself?”

  “Pray. Drink. Pray. This is all I’ve come up with.”

  “Only two out of three of those things sounds like a good idea. You haven’t been drinking too much, have you?” Savvy questioned with a spark of concern in her voice.

  “Of course not. Not any more than usual. I’m fine. I expressed my concerns to Malcolm about how this situation makes me even more worried about them moving to Miami. I wonder how the distance from me is going to affect Simone. She’s struggling.” Olivia huffed a breath of air. “Malcolm and Mariah pissed me off when they said it doesn’t change anything about them leaving San Antonio. He said they would
find her good psychologist there. Can you believe that?”

  “He knows he should stay his butt here with all of this going on.”

  “Exactly. I’m furious with him. I don’t want him in my presence any time soon.”

  “Maybe I should plan a girl’s day with Simone. I’ll offer a different perspective from someone other than you, Malcolm, or a counselor,” Savvy offered.

  “Good idea. I think time with Aunt Savvy is always a bonus. Feel free to set something up.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll reach out to Malcolm and see when is a good weekend.” She peeked at the time on the clock. “Girl, I’d better get going. Time got away from me. I still need to put on my clothes and get to Pharrell’s.”

  “Alright. Have fun and give him a big sloppy kiss on his lips. Mwah. Maybe it’ll shut him up.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Olivia

  Olivia slipped on comfortable pajamas, which she found on Oprah’s Favorite Things list. The smell of the popcorn she removed from the microwave made her mouth water. She added marshmallows to a mug of hot chocolate to finish preparations for a quiet movie night at home.

  The light from the TV illuminated the darkened room. She settled onto an oversized pillow on the floor with the popcorn bag and cup on a tray next to her. After perusing the movie menu, she selected a new release.

  Olivia’s doorbell rang two times. Baffled, she scrunched her nose and rotated toward the front door. She wasn’t expecting company.

  She pushed herself to a standing position from the pillow on the floor. After tip-toeing across the room, she closed one eye to peek out the peephole of the door. Before the face of the visitor came into focus, a firm knock pounded and a voice called out, “Olivia, it’s me, Malcolm. Please open the door.”

  Her fury still hadn’t dissipated with his refusal to stay in San Antonio for the sake of Simone’s issues. “Malcolm?” Olivia yelled through the door. “What do you want?”

  “We need to discuss some things. Let me in, please. It’s important,” Malcolm responded.