Children of Redemption (Children of Vice 3)

TWENTY

“There’s a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart for a child that never comes.”

~ David Platt

EVELYN

You’d think I’d be used to this.

How many times had I gone through this?

I’d lost people so often that it had become part of my muscle memory. I knew all the stages I would go through. How long it would take before I found the will to smile again. I knew the aching would last forever, like a dull knife taking an eternity to tear off a piece of my heart. Even in my mind I couldn’t help but organize—call the casket maker, the grounds keeper, the family florist, and the family church…have all the clothes sent to everyone’s rooms. There needed to be a statement, and then when it was over, I’d come home to silence that was deafening. I’d try to smile while everyone checked on me because I was one heartbreak away from closing my eyes and never getting up again.

This life was horrid.

I was living my punishment.

Every once in a while, I’d forget this was hell, and I’d get comfortable. The moment I did, however, hell would remind me that I didn’t deserve to smile. I didn’t deserve joy. I was being punished. Why had we chosen this life?

When I was young, I was told because we would have starved and died had no one taken care of our families. But now that I was old, I knew that was no longer the reason. We couldn’t stop. We couldn’t walk away from it. The drugs and the power…we couldn’t let it go, because we knew if we did, it would be certain death. We’d caused so much pain, had hurt so many people, had destroyed so many families…but if we stopped, we’d die because they would come for us. How could they not? When we were strong, they came for us. If we were weak, they’d come even more.

So we had to commit.

We had to walk this hell, and we forced our children, and their children, to walk it, too, because no matter how evil we were… the one thing we wanted more than anything else was for our children to live.

So we fed them the poison, forced them to get used to it, corrupted them, stole their innocence…because we loved them. We loved so much that, even if it meant hurting them, we’d do it because it meant they could live.

But when they stopped living.

When they died.

All we could see were our mistakes.

See where we failed and weep in horror for what we had done to them.

“Wyatt…” Grabbing onto my chest, I tried to breathe, but couldn’t...my baby…my grandbaby…I’m so sorry.

EVELYN – AGE FIFTY-EIGHT

“Nana? Nana?”

“Hmm.” Opening my eyes, I saw two brown eyes with green specks staring right back at me. He grinned from ear to ear, getting on my bed and laying down next to me.

“What were you dreaming about? You looked happy.”

Placing my hands on his small little face, I smiled. “I was dreaming of your grandpapa.”

“My dad’s dad?” he asked, so curious.

I laughed, nodding. “Yes, your dad’s dad. You’re named after him you know. His name was Sedric. That was actually going to be your first name, but your parents were worried about me having to hear the name Sedric every day.”

“But Sedric’s name is Sedric.” He looked so confused.

“Yeah, but he’s younger than you. I was a little more okay then and happy to hear it.”

“Grandpop’s name made you sad? I’m sorry, Nana.” He reached over and pet my face gently, and it was so cute of him. He was so gentle.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m okay now. Every once in a while, I see him in my dreams, and I get really happy.”