After leaving the funeral home from making arrangements for my daughter, I got in my car and made my way home. Millions of thoughts were running through my head. My daughter was gone. She was never coming back to me. I would never get to see her beautiful smiling face ever again. The more the thoughts jumbled around in my brain, the more my heart broke. I loved Michelle so much. She was my one and only child, and she was taken from me. Life would never be the same for me without her. Tears clouded my eyes as I continued to drive and the thoughts continued bombarding me.
I delved back into the recesses of my mind as I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant with her. It was the happiest day of my life. Michelle was my miracle baby. I had been told since I was young that I would never be able to have children because of problems with my cervix. I had been pregnant several times before, but I always ended up having a miscarriage. I didn’t find out that I was pregnant with Michelle until I was almost five months. None of my other pregnancies ever got that far, so I knew then that she was a miracle child. When I went for an ultra-sound, I found out that I was having a little boy. It hurt my heart because I wanted a little girl so bad. I was disappointed, but as long as my baby was healthy, I was happy.
My pregnancy progressed along fine, but I still held out hope that the doctors would be wrong and I would have a little girl. I knew how sometimes the ultrasound would be incorrect in determining the sex of the baby so I kept my fingers crossed. I was on bedrest for the remainder of my pregnancy so that I would carry all the way to full-term. I had to be careful not to lose the baby, so I followed all my doctor’s instructions. Two months after I found out I was pregnant, I gave birth to a wailing baby boy. I was disappointed that the doctors were right, but I was happy that my baby was healthy and strong.
I named my son Michael Xavier Andres, and he was the light of my life. As Michael grew and developed, I noticed that there was something different about him. He wasn’t like any normal child. I didn’t know what to make of it at first, so I dismissed my feelings. The more he grew though, the harder it was to deny that my child was not normal. The saddest part about it though, is that he knew he was different also. He would often ask me questions that I had no answers for. It would always hurt my heart to see the frustration on his little face when he tried to get answers out of me, and I would change the subject. I couldn’t answer him because I didn’t know what was going on myself. When I finally pulled the blinders from in front of my eyes and admitted to myself that my son Michael was suffering tremendously, I blamed myself.
I felt that somehow, I had done this to him. I had made him what he was. Because of my selfish hopes and prayers my son was suffering. He was surrounded in confusion, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. My husband, Melvin, didn’t make things any better. He constantly belittled and punished Michael for being “too girlie” whenever he was in his sight. The first time Melvin beat Michael for exhibiting what he called “sissy traits” I cried for hours. I felt helpless to do anything about it, so I did nothing. Michael was playing outside one day with some of the neighborhood kids when Melvin came home from work. Michael had been outside most of the day, and I would stick my head out the door and make sure that he was ok. I was sticking my head out of the door to call him in for dinner when I noticed Melvin stepping out of the car. Michael was oblivious to his father storming towards him as he continued to play.
“One, two, three, four. Who is knocking at my door? Five, six, seven, eight. Who is banging on my gate?” the little girls sang as Michael jumped between the two ropes.
His little five-year-old feet were jumping as high as they could go. His hair was flying all around his face as he jumped. He had this look of pleasure on his face as he jumped every time the rope hit the ground.
“One, two, three, four. Who is knocking at my door? Five, six, seven, eight. Who is banging on my gate?” the girls chanted again as Michael jumped higher.
Just as he was preparing to jump again, Melvin swooped down and snatched him out of the air. Michael was stunned. He turned around trying to see what happened and he came face to face with the scowling face of his father. Melvin held Michael up in the air by his shirt as he shook him violently. The little girls who had been turning the rope stood in wide-eyed shock at the big angry man in front of them.
“D-daddy?” Michael stammered.
“Boy, what have I told your ass about this shit?” Melvin yelled in Michael’s face.
I stood there at the door nervously ringing my hands together. I didn’t like the look in Melvin’s eyes. He was glaring at Michael furiously. Michael was so scared he couldn’t utter a word. He stared at his father with frightened eyes.
“Don’t you hear me talking to you boy?” he asked, shaking Michael again and his little body swung like a rag doll.
“I-I-I…” Michael stuttered.
He turned his head towards the door where I was standing with a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. I stood there stuck for a moment; then I called out to Melvin.
“Melvin, please, put Michael down.”
Melvin ignored me and continued yelling at Michael as he held him up in the air.
“Putting a little base in my voice this time, I said, “Melvin, put Michael down now!”
He glanced over his shoulder at me with an angry scowl on his face, then he put Michael back on his feet. I thought that was going to be the end of it, but I was wrong. Once Michael was standing back upright, Melvin grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the front door. Michael’s little legs couldn’t keep up with his father’s powerful strides, so he tripped and stumbled the whole way. The little girls seeing that they weren’t going to be able to play with Michael anymore, took their jump ropes and turned and walked back to their homes. Once Melvin got Michael to the steps, he roughly pushed him in the back to make him climb them. I could tell by the fear written all over Michael’s face that he was terrified of his father.
Melvin poked and prodded Michael until he climbed all the steps and entered the house. I walked silently behind them as I shut the door. Melvin immediately started yelling at Michael as he cowered in the middle of the living room. His little body was quaking with fear. I could tell by the wet print in the front of his jeans that he had peed on himself. Melvin reached his hand around his waist to remove his belt. My eyes grew wide with fear as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops in his pants.
With my heart beating wildly, I asked, “Melvin, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m about to whip this boy’s ass. I’ve told him about acting as if he’s a damn girl. I won’t have it.”
“No, you can’t whip him.” I cried out.
“Lucille, you stay out of this. You’re the reason this boy is so girlie in the first place. All that coddling and spoiling you do to him. It’s time I taught him how to be a man.”
“But he’s only five.”
“Five or not. He needs to know that the way he is acting isn’t right, and I will not have it in my house.”
Michael tried to get out of the way as Melvin swung the belt, but he wasn’t fast enough. The belt connected with his back as Melvin grabbed ahold of Michael. He swung the belt back and forth as he attacked. Every time he spoke a word he hit Michael.
“Haven’t. Whap. I. Whap. Told. Whap. Your. Whap. Ass,” he said as the belt hit Michaels back with his every word.
Michael cried out every time the belt struck his body. His screams were making me cry as I watched his father beat him. When I finally had enough of the scene in front of me, I grabbed the belt just as Melvin was swinging it back to hit Michael again. I yanked the belt hard from Melvin’s grasp as Michael lay on the floor crying.
“What the hell are you doing?” Melvin yelled.
“That’s enough Melvin.”
“It isn’t enough until this boy sees that I’m not playing with him.”
“I will not allow you to beat my son to death.”
“I’m not going to beat him to death. You are being overly dramatic. I’m letting him know I mean business.”
“Well, I’m not going to let you keep hurting him,” I said, bending down on the floor and cradling Michael into my arms.
He laid his head on my shoulder as he continued to cry.
“Shhh. It’s going to be alright.” I comforted.
He continued crying as he wiped tears and snot from his face with the back of his hands. His body quivered in my arms as I held him to my chest and rocked him gently.
“It’s all over now baby. Shhh. Mommies here.”
Melvin glared down at us huddled on the floor, then he turned and marched from the room. I cried as I held onto Michael as he cried. I prayed to God that he would somehow change my son and make him normal. I knew that Michael didn’t understand what was happening, but I prayed that God would work a miracle on him. If he didn’t, my son would surely suffer. That was the first time Melvin laid hands on Michael, but sadly it wasn’t the last. Things only got worse the older Michael got, and his father saw that all the beatings and punishments weren’t doing anything to change him. I tried to shield Michael as best as I could, but I wasn’t always around, and he felt the brunt of his father’s hatred.
Returning my thoughts back to the present, I wiped at the tears that I hadn’t noticed were falling as I continued to drive home. My heart was aching so bad that my child was ripped away from me forever. Slowly, my sadness transformed into rage. My blood boiled as I thought of the reason I was going to have to bury my child in a few days. My husband. My child’s father caused my daughter to be taken away from me. He with his sinister and cold-hearted ways caused my daughter to be murdered. Why did he have to do what he did? No, I didn’t agree with how Michelle handled things with Jason, but it was none of Melvin’s business. He had no right getting involved. I hadn’t confronted him yet, but I planned to do so as soon as I got home. I had been focused on trying to get through the investigation of Michelle’s murder, so Melvin didn’t have a clue that I knew that he was the person responsible for my child’s death. The tears falling from my eyes were scorching as the anger continued to build inside me. They were so hot that they felt like acid trails sliding down my cheeks.
When Jason found out that Michelle was born Michael, he flipped out and strangled her to death. He later killed himself by tying a bed sheet from the rails of the balcony and hanging himself. He was staying at the hotel where he and Michelle were to be married, but he left because he couldn’t take knowing that the person he loved was born a man. He left a note behind explaining his actions and revealing that my husband was the person who told him. Two tragedies in one day. My husband had some explaining to do. There was no plausible excuse why he did what he did. He committed the ultimate sin in my eyes. He committed betrayal against his own flesh and blood, and that was something I couldn’t overlook.