Polaroid Photos

TW: Child Abuse

POLAROID PHOTOS

Shawn woke up when the sun was just beginning to rise. His head hurt like when Suzie threw a basketball at his head last week. Mrs. Thompson gave her a week of detention, which Shawn felt she deserved since he had a bump on his head for a few days and his mom wasn’t even around to kiss it better.

She went to see her sister, but Shawn was starting to wonder when she was coming back. His class was going on the end of the year field trip soon and she had signed up as a chaperone and he really hoped she remembered to come back. He reminded her before she left and she promised she would be back in time.

He slid out of bed, causing the covers to avalanche onto the ground, and stood upright, which only made his headache worse. His bare feet padded across his room to the door, as he opened it, something fluttered to the ground. He looked at it a moment before bending down and picking it up. It was slippery and took a few tries to get off the floor. The small white shiny paper didn’t seem like anything important, but then he turned it over. Shawn noticed it was a photograph. One that his mom liked to take; a polaroid she called it.

He couldn’t exactly place what the picture was. It looked like someone’s leg, but he couldn’t be too certain, the image took up most of the picture's frame. He held the picture as he reached up for the door handle and pulled it open so he could fit through.

He walked down the hall to his parent’s room but outside the door was another small white polaroid. He picked it up and turned it over revealing another up-close picture of a leg. Though this time the legs were smaller and there were two. They were spread out on the floor. He thought he could see part of a rug in the corner but it was so small he couldn’t be certain.

He opened the door to his parent’s room, but his dad wasn’t there. The bed was perfectly made like his mom was still there, but he knew she wasn’t. His head throbbed with every step he took.

If he could just find his dad, maybe he could give him ice to make it feel better, or maybe one of those pills in a red bottle his mom would give him when something hurt.

He was about to close the door when he caught a glimpse of light coming from the bed. He walked over and saw it was another photo. He picked it up and this image showed a man’s body. It reminded him of his father. The way his midsection stuck out further than the rest of his body. He commented once that it looked like he was Santa, his father let out a boisterous “ho, ho, ho” as he opened another can of his drink and laid back in his recliner.

Shawn added the photo to the small pile he was collecting and ventured down the hall to the stairs. On his way he saw another small white photo, flipping it over he saw another leg, matching the first picture he collected. He walked further down the stairs and on the landing collected yet another picture. This time it was the mid-section of a young kid. He looked at the position the body was laying on the floor and placed the photos he collected on the floor. Putting the smaller body together and the bigger body together and noticed that the picture could be pieces of a bigger picture, like a puzzle.

Maybe his mom was back and gave him a puzzle to find her. He picked up the photos and tucked them into his waistband and bounded down the steps. He really hoped his mom was home, his head was hurting more and more with every passing minute. He arrived at the bottom of the stairs and saw another picture.

This one was different because he recognized the face, his father. It showed his dad asleep in his chair, slumped one way like he often did when he was watching a baseball game. He giggled at the picture; his dad’s hair was covering most of his face but he would know his father’s face anywhere. His mother must have thought it was funny, especially since he had food all over him.

Shawn continued into the kitchen but his mom wasn’t there. There were no eggs and toast waiting for him. He frowned, maybe she was getting the mail? Or talking to a neighbor? He looked for a picture, another part of the puzzle she created for him. He couldn’t find anything in the kitchen and the light from the open window was making his headache worse. He retreated to the darker dining room and there, he found another picture. This time it had no person in it, but it was a rug, his family's rug. The one where he would trace the outline of dots and flowers.

Dragging a chair to him he laid all the pictures on the dining room table and rearranged them until they created one picture. He could see his father asleep and covered in food and another person lying near his feet. He jumped off the chair, having to pause for a second due to the intensity the quick movement caused his head.

Running around the house he found a few more photos. They were all different parts of the same room, which he figured was the TV room. He arranged them so they created a whole image on the table. Shawn was confident he was only a picture or two away from finishing the puzzle he bounded into the TV room where near his father’s recliner he located another picture. This time it showed his father’s hand hanging off of the chair. On the ground, it looked like he dropped the remote, but he couldn’t be sure, regardless Shawn was another piece closer to finishing the puzzle. He added the picture to the bigger piece.

All that was left was someone laying on the floor. He looked around the TV room but couldn’t find it. He looked in the bathroom and the kitchen but it was nowhere to be found. His head was really starting to hurt and he wanted his mom to come home so she could take care of him. She might have gone somewhere with his father, but they never wanted to leave him alone, they said he was too young even though the girl across the street, who was a year younger than him, got to do it all the time.

Outside he heard a car pull up. He ran to the window and recognized his mom’s car. She was home! Shawn raced to the door and was about to open it when he saw a small white, glossy picture sticking out from under the front door. The final piece of the puzzle. His mom would be so glad he finished it. He grabbed it and ran to the rest of the picture and placed it in its spot.

Shawn’s head pounded harder than it had before and he felt like his brain was going to explode. He looked at the new piece and cocked his head to the side. The boy in the photograph looked a lot like him. He was laying on the ground and just like his dad he was covered in food. It must have been a cherry pie because thick red pieces were all around him. His head ached more and more with every passing second and he heard his mom come up the front steps.

He grabbed his head with both hands, the pressure becoming too much. He didn’t like pie. Why did his mom take a picture of him and his dad asleep after eating it, and eating it so messily? Something he was sure never happened. He looked at the picture examining it closer, trying to make it make sense. He heard the key to the front door open, finally, his mom would be able to tell him why she did this.

His eyes scanned one more time, just one more and then I’ll go see my mom and she can help me, he told himself. He scanned his messy, cherry-stained head and face and then his dad’s and to the remote on the floor. But that wasn't a remote. He recognized it from the safe his parents had in their room. His dad showed him once or twice.

He heard a loud thud in the next room followed by a wail that cut straight through his head. Why was his mother screaming? His head hurt so much he shut his eyes and covered his ears to block it out, but it was no use. She kept screaming and screaming. Though it hurt more than he’d ever known in his life he got off the chair and made his way to see his mom. To ask her what was wrong and if she had any of those pills to make his head stop hurting.

But mostly, why his dad would just leave his gun on the floor next to them.