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did you do to him to make him do it? I lowered my eyes, unable to even
pretend to be innocent.  Maybe that s exactly what you did to Michael! Her
hands were clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her, creating little
half-moon cuts on her palms.
 I was just a baby, I insisted without any real conviction.  I couldn t
have& Even if I did, there had to be more people involved. I wouldn t just pick
a family. I mean, I couldn t! It doesn t explain anything! Why would anybody
take him or hurt him and put me in his place?
 You were always evil, Mom ignored my question.  I knew it since the
moment I held you in my arms. She had calmed herself a bit and leaned back
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in her chair.  It was in your eyes. They weren t human. They weren t kind or
good.
 Then why didn t you just kill me then? I demanded, growing
irritated.
 You were a baby! Her hands were still shaking and her lips had
started to quiver. She was losing the confidence she had walked into the room
with.  Well, I thought you were. You know I couldn t be sure. She pressed her
lips together tightly, trying to hold back tears.
 What made you so sure? I asked.  What made you decide that day?
On my sixth birthday. Why that day? What happened?
 You weren t mine. I knew you weren t. She brushed at her eyes to
keep the tears from spilling over.  I had known forever. But I just kept thinking
about what the day should ve been like. With my husband, and my son. Michael
should ve been six that day, not you. You were a horrible, horrible child, and
you were alive. And he was dead. I just& it didn t seem right anymore. She
took a deep breath and shook her head.  It still isn t right.
 I was six years old. My voice had started quavering, and I was
surprised that this had gotten to me so hard. I had never thought this had
bothered me. I know that sounds stupid, but I had never felt anything about her
or what happened. But I was wrong, because I felt hurt and scared and
nauseous.  Six-years-old. Do you understand that? I was a little kid, and you were
supposed to be my mother! Whether she really was or not was irrelevant. I was
a child, and she was in charge of raising me.  I had never done anything to
anyone! I still haven t! I never even met Michael!
 You are lying! Mom hissed.  You were always a liar! You re a
monster! And I know you re doing things to Matthew! Just leave him alone!
He s a good boy! She reached across the table and grabbed my wrist painfully,
and the orderly came up behind her.  Take what you want! Take anything! Just
leave Matthew alone!
 Kimberly, come on. The orderly put his strong hand on her arm, and
she tried to pull away from him.  Kimberly!
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  Leave him alone! Mom shouted again and the orderly started pulling
her up. She was fighting against him, screaming at me.  Do you hear me,
Wendy? I will get out of here someday! And if you ve hurt that boy, I will finish
the job I started!
 That s enough! The orderly bellowed and started dragging her out of
the room.
 You re not human, Wendy! And I know it! That was the last thing
she yelled before he carried her out of my sight.
I sat in the room long after she d gone, trying to catch my breath and
get myself under control. Matt couldn t see me like that. I really, really thought I
was going to throw up, but I managed to keep it down. My whole body was
shaking.
Everything was true. I was a changeling. I wasn t human. She wasn t
my mother. She was just Kim, a woman who had lost her grasp on everything
when she realized I wasn t her child. I had been switched out for her son,
Michael, and I had no idea what had happened to him. Maybe he was dead.
Maybe I really had killed him, or someone else had. Maybe someone like Finn.
She was convinced that I was a monster, and I had nothing to argue
that with. In my life, I had caused nothing but pain. I had ruined Matt s life, and
I was still. Not only did he constantly have to uproot himself for me and spend
every minute worrying about me, but I was manipulating and controlling him,
and I couldn t say for sure how long that had been going on. I couldn t fully
understand the long-term effects of it either. Maybe he didn t even really care
for me. When I was very small, I could ve used persuasion on him and
convinced him that he needed to take care of me.
Maybe it would ve been better if she had killed me when I was six. Or
better yet, when I was still a baby. Then I wouldn t have been able to hurt
anybody. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]