This happened almost two decades ago and after what happened when I was seven, my mom still has trouble not knowing where I am or who I'm with. My mother like all mothers I'm sure, told me never talk to strangers. It was a rule I always followed but there is some gray area in there. It was just me and my mom while growing up, we lived in a decent neighborhood that had other kids my age and families like ours. My mom worked very hard to get the things I needed and occasionally the things I wanted. We relied on each other to make sure the simple things got done and when I was seven, on some days I started getting home from school before my mom got off work so she got me a key to the front door to let myself in. We had a small house with a small front yard but when you're a kid the world looks a bit different and larger. I wouldn't know the difference between a nice house and our home, to me it was just home and it was the next best thing to a mansion. It was our sanctuary where I felt safe and no harm could come in. I had a room to myself and a bed with star wars bed sheets. In my mind, I had all the space in the world for my toys which were all strewn about and being seven, the difference between my tiny room and more space never entered my mind. I had a whole room to myself and at that age never thought how peculiar it was for me to see Aunt Margaret in my room waiting for me on days I would get home before my mom. She would always be standing in the corner behind the door as I walked in.
It wasn't until later in life that I realized how strange that was and how I never questioned it. I would talk with her usually to tell her about toys I wanted that I saw on television. She would always say to me, "I'll keep that in mind, your birthday is coming up," even if my birthday was still months away. I would make lists sometimes and show it to her. She seemed to like to hear what I wanted. I always only spoke with her briefly before she would leave the house.
One day at school while at recess, she came up to me while I was in the playground from the other side of the fence. She yelled for me a couple of times before she got my attention, "Anthony...Anthony, over here, hey, I got you your birthday present early. Come with me and we'll go get it." I was hesitant to go because I was at school and knew I wasn't allowed to leave but it was Aunt Margaret and her being an adult probably had permission to take me out of school. I was about to go with her when the bell rang to come back inside and I decided that I shouldn't go and probably wait for my birthday present instead. So I told her I would wait. She got angry and told me to come with her right now or she would tell my mother how I didn't listen to her. I hated making my mom upset but the anxiety of seeing everyone else run inside over took me and I just ran back inside. I never figured out why she tried to pull me out of school and couldn't just wait till I got home.
Later that day, as I was getting off the school bus I saw my mom sitting on the front step of the house with a gift wrapped present in her lap. Immediately I thought to myself that Aunt Margaret had left my birthday present but probably told my mom how I didn't listen to her. I felt the dread of facing my mom upset crawl over my skin. I hated being in trouble so I dragged my feet as I walked toward my mom. Apparently my mom was excited to tell me that she wouldn't have to work long hours anymore and would be home before me from now but at that moment was more concerned with the box. "Anthony," she said, "do you know where this came from?" referring to the present.
"I dunno," I said as I looked at the ground.
"It had just this note attached to it that says 'To Anthony." I looked up with a bit of excitement to get a present and told her it was probably from Aunt Margaret. She looked at me very quizzically and asked, "Who?" I replied, "You know, Aunt Margaret, she was gonna take me today from school to give me my present but probably dropped it off instead."
My mother's eyes widened with fear and disbelief and said, "baby, I don't know what you're talking about, you don't have an Aunt Margaret." I just looked at her very confused, "no, I was talking with her, she visits me sometimes when you're at work."
My mom's fear grew into her face as she tried explaining to me that I didn't have an Aunt Margaret and how she only had four older brothers. I tried understanding everything she was telling me but being seven I couldn't quite comprehend who Aunt Margaret wasn't. My mother tried figuring out where I got the idea that this mysterious lady was my aunt but came up fruitless when I couldn't remember any details about the first time I saw her. I guess seeing her in my room never had me question the legitimacy of it all. Inside the gift wrapped box was a Gameboy and on the back written in dark black marker said "Johnson."
It wasn't until a few days later that it all came crashing down on me. I was in the living room watching television when I started yelling for my mom, "Mom! Mom! Its Aunt Margaret!" my mom ran into the living room with a knife in her hand and wide eyes. "See mom, there she is," as I pointed to the television, "she's famous, look, she's on t.v." My mom looked at the screen and started crying and fell to her knees as she clutched me. I didn't understand what I was seeing on television, I just remember seeing the lady's face and reading the headline, "Breaking News: Killer Captured in Johnson Family Murder."
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