“An Accident”

“My mum once tried to kill herself, they said it was an accident but I was there and I saw.”

            “What happened?”

            It was just an ordinary day, dad was at work, my older brother and sister were at school and me and my little brother Karl were playing in the garden. Well actually we had been running in and out of the house dragging out different toys, basically driving mum up the wall all morning, then suddenly she snapped.

            “Out! Out! And stay out, don’t come back in for at least an hour.”

            When mum chucked you out you knew not to come back for a while, not that at the age of five I had any means of telling the time other than the sun moving across the sky and my tummy rumbling. It didn’t register on me at the time but I heard the click of the lock as the door shut.

            The door we had just been ushered out of was at the side of the house and in the shade so we went into the back garden to play. We didn’t mind at first, I’d helped mum pull the slide out of the shed earlier, she hadn’t wanted too, house work and stuff to do, but we had the slide and various toys we had taken outside so we played happily for a time.

            It was Karl that wanted in first, he needed the toilet. The slide was positioned so that from the top you could see the side of the house and the door, I remember watching him from this lofty perch run up to the door and try to push it. When it didn’t open I just assumed he hadn’t turned the handle properly. He was a year and a half younger than me and didn’t know how to do some stuff yet, so being the big sister I slide down and went to help.

            “Mum said we weren’t to come in.”

            “I want to wee.”

            The wooden door knob looked huge in his little chubby hands.

            “Mums going to shout at you.” I said batting them away so I could turn the handle for him.

            “I want to wee.” Karl pleaded again whilst doing the wee dance.

            I didn’t care; I was trying to get the knob to turn and the door to open, and not understanding why it wouldn’t. I was doing it right I was sure but just in case I tried turning it the other way and pushing hard but it didn’t budge.

            Giving up I turned to my brother “Do you just want to wee?”

            “Yeah.” He whined.

            “Then wee against the wall.”

            “Ok.”

            Problem solved we went back to playing, unfortunately by this time my own bladder was beginning to fill up.

            The afternoon sunshine was quite warm so it wasn’t long before I became thirsty as well, but in fear of being told off for ‘bothering her’, I waited for as long as I could before attempting to get back in for a drink. However when I finally plucked up enough courage to approached the side door I noticed that the sun slanted across the wall by the lintel and when I looked it was hanging low over the roof tops behind, indicating that some time had passed. Nervously I tried the doorknob for sure this time that it would open, but once again it didn’t move.

“Mum.” I yelled. “Mum let me in.”

            Karl heard me calling and came to stand at my side, he was covered in shiny brown dust from the sand pit and his clothes were crumpled from playing on the floor. I probably didn’t look any better and from the pressure in my bladder I was likely to add wet knickers to the mix any time soon.

“Mum I need to pee and were thirsty.” I yelled playing on her sympathy’s.

“Mum, Mum let us in” Karl cried out while banging his grubby fists on the door.

I began knocking too and calling out over and over again “Mum let us in.” I expected any moment for her to yank open the door and scream at us to stop. I was prepared for the angry face and the telling off so long as we could get in.

            My hand started to hurt from knocking so hard and I began to wonder if she was punishing us for being naughty earlier, if she was, it was a horrible punishment and we were sorry beyond doubt by now, so why didn’t she let us in. Karl’s hands must have hurt too because he began kicking the bottom of the door, I also noticed that he was crying. If I didn’t understand what was going on he certainly didn’t.

I suddenly wondered why no one had heard us screaming and come to investigate what was wrong. So I went into the front garden, down the front path and peered over the gate out into the street, it was empty. We lived in a semi detached house at the end of a cul-de-sac, it was a very middle class area where the men went out to work, the kids went to school and the mums did housework all day. The garden was surrounded by hedges and high fences; I could only just about see over the garden gate if I tiptoed.

I thought about knocking on the front door like a grown up, however when I looked at it over my shoulder it made me feel very small. It had two steps leading up to it and I wasn’t very good with steps besides it was bigger and more solid than the side door and I only had tiny hands. Afraid of leaving my brother for very long on his own I abandoned the idea and ran back around the house to begin franticly knocking on the side door again.

By this time I was in tears too and becoming very frightened, why wouldn’t mum open the door and why was it locked, she had never locked us out before. Something was very wrong; I could feel it in my tummy, a cold jumble knot that made it hard to breathe.

We must have knocked for ages because eventually the sun moved to shine down the side of the house and I could hear kid’s voices in the street indicating it was home time. Exhausted and scared I stopped knocking and stood back from the door, I knew my brother and sister would be home very soon and mum would have to open the door to let them in.

            “What’s wrong love?”

It was my dad’s voice; I turned my head just in time to see him come round the side of the house. He was home early and looked flustered but my dad was home so everything would be ok now wouldn’t it.

            “Mum won’t let us in.” I told him, pulling my brother back from the door.

He didn’t try the handle, he just swopped his flask to the other hand, fumbled in his jacket pocket for a bunch of keys, slid the right one into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open.

            The evening sunlight streamed in through the open door and illuminated the kitchen beyond. I could see Mum was sitting in a chair beside the cooker, with her head and arms resting on top of it, she looked like she was asleep. For some reason after spending so long trying to get in my feet now wouldn’t budge from the spot likewise Karl’s seemed to be glued as well. It was from this vantage point that I watched my dad fiddle with the cooker then pick mum up and place her on the floor. The sound of my brother and sister returning home from school briefly drew my attention away from the scene, they were smiling and cheerful until they saw what was going on.

            “Your mums had an accident.”

I remember hearing my dad say, then something about the gas and her banging her head. It didn’t make sense to me at the time, and it was only recently when thinking back to the day and the event that I realised why.

I didn’t see the ambulance come and take her away, I don’t even remember going to the toilet but I guess I must have. The next thing I do remember clearly is sitting in my neighbours kitchen at a round Formica table being fussed over by two middle aged spinsters. They were cooking us something to eat and my sister being the eldest was helping them, my two brothers sat either side of me not talking.

            “Do you like peas love?” I remember one of them asking me.

            “Yes.” I relied very slowly,

            “Were doing fish fingers and peas.” The other one said. “Is that ok.”

            “We all like peas.” My sister answered in her best polite voice. “And mum cooks us fish fingers all the time.”

            “That’s nice dear, do want mash?”

            I remember eating the food and thinking it tasted different, ‘not like mum use to make’ you would say.

Mum was in hospital for along time, dad had to take time of work to look after us, we got new toys at the market and sweets at the shop. We didn’t go to the hospital but dad bought mum flowers for when she came home and we got a new cooker, an electric one.

They said she had slipped banged her head, they said it was an accident but I saw her in the chair, if she had fallen why was she in the chair. They lied she didn’t fall. It wasn’t an accident, she tried to kill herself. My brother and sister didn’t see her in the chair because dad had already moved her and Karl was too young to remember what he saw. Even Mum always referred to the incident as an accident but I was there and I saw.

            “Did you take the pills by accident?”

            “No, I knew what I was doing.”

            “Did you want to kill yourself?”

            “No I just wanted someone to listen to me.”

            “I’m listening.”