Page 45 of The Scrooge Effect

“Well, fine, if you want to do it the old-fashioned way, we’ll do that,” she snapped. “It’ll be boring and totally lacking the creative elements that this film needs, but we’ll do it.”

She was so dramatic, but as she snapped her fingers, the scene before me changed into one I recognized very much. And it made my gut twist to be back in that old, rundown house with my parents yelling in the background as I laid on the ground, coloring with crayons worn down to the nub.

“Better?”

I swallowed hard as I looked around the old house. The picture frames hanging crooked on the walls, the old couch that had threads hanging loosely from the fray, and the cigarette smoke that permeated the air.

I didn’t think I would ever be back here again, that I would have to relive this moment, but now that I was here, it was like being tossed back into the worst time of my life.

“You bastard!” my mom yelled. “I hate you! I wish I’d never married you!”

Dad followed her into the room, grabbing her arm and spinning her around before he backhanded her into the wall.

I looked down at younger me, just laying on the ground coloring, blocking it all out. I did that a lot.

Suddenly, younger me was yanked off the ground by my old man. He grabbed me by the jaw and forced me to look at my mother.

“Wait, I don’t…” I shook my head. I didn’t want to see this. “Zoe, turn it off.”

“I can’t,” she said quietly. “These are your memories.”

I stared in horror as my old man squeezed my jaw harder than ever before. I could feel the pressure, how it felt like my jaw was going to break as he shook me, and he yelled at my mother and told her what a disappointment she was. He’d wished he’d never married her.

And then he turned on me.

“—and I have to take care of this miserable brat! I never wanted him! You tricked me!”

“I didn’t do anything!” my mother cried from the floor. “You did this! It was one of your drunken stupors! Do you think I wanted to have a kid with you?”

“Zoe—” I started, wanting to tell her to turn it off.

“I never wanted him either! The last thing I want is to be attached to you in any way!”

“You got pregnant on purpose!” my father shouted. “To string me along for the rest of my life. It would have been better if he’d never been born!”

I closed my eyes, not needing to see how he tossed me at the wall and my body crumpled in pain on the floor. I could feel him hurting me all over again. How his boot hit me in the gut, and how he slapped me hard across the face.

“Edu…” Zoe whispered beside me, her hand interlocking with mine. “You need to open your eyes.”

I swallowed hard, choking down the vomit rising in my throat. “I don’t want to.”

“Open.”

Against my will, my eyes opened and I watched the scene unfold. I felt every crack of his hand against my skin. I heard my mother’s screams, but I realized now that she wasn’t screaming because he was hitting me.

All this time, I’d thought she was upset because he was hurting me.

But as I watched the scene unfold, I realized she was just yelling at him for being a horrible husband.

“She’s not defending me,” I whispered.

“I think you always knew that,” Zoe murmured. “That’s why you didn’t go in that day when you sat on the steps.”

“The day he killed her?”

She nodded beside me. “Look. Really look.”

I was, and I didn’t like what I saw. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”