CHAPTER IX : Home Sweet Home

It was bittersweet going back home to her parents. The energy was different, or perhaps she was the one who had changed. She couldn't tell if the home didn't recognize her or the other way around. The house felt caught between remembering her and letting her go.

Persephonè was welcomed back with an air of supportiveness and a touch of silence. It felt as though there was some fine print she might be missing. Waiting for that moment of 'I told you so' to emerge to kick her while she was down. She wouldn't blame anyone for it though. Nobody could be harder on her than she already...always was...on herself. But it didn't take long before the silence of the unsaid words became too loud for her mother to handle. "How could you let him treat me like that!?" was the line her mother cried out in tears. It radiated through Persephonè's body and tattooed itself on her heart. The rest of the lecture became muffled as Persephonè felt herself become small. She never meant for anyone to get hurt. Her mother's pain took all the space between them.

Persephone lived day to day at that point. One obstacle at a time. The biggest one to get through was the divorce. Mitch gave her an ultimatum "if you try to get me to pay half of all the debt, I will go for full custody of Anne". She didn't need time to think. She responded in an instant "I will take it all". Mitch was satisfied.

The time came when Persephonè needed to go back to gather the rest of her belongings. Stepping back into the home that she and Mitch had bought together felt like it belonged in a different timeline. This used to be her grandmother's home. It now felt conquered by invaders that had pillaged and plundered what they wanted. Most of her stuff had been ransacked. Trinkets and decorative items for the home were gone. Clothes had been gone through. Mitch's sisters, the ones who were there for her the day before her wedding, had taken liberty to her things. These 'Christian' women. The ones who liked to look down upon others as being 'too worldly'...had stolen her possessions. They had even taken the music CDs they claimed no Christian should own. She stood for a moment in silence, like she was burying an old friend. Then collected what she could and never looked back.

The stolen belongings seemed insignificant compared to what came next. The hardest part was having to watch her baby girl go on visits with Mitch without her. What a surreal experience to have strangers set rules regarding your own child. Being bound by the courts when your instincts are screaming 'No' was such a helpless feeling. A feeling Persephonè would not wish upon her worst enemies. The visits seemed to last a lifetime. Persephonè was restless in a completely paralyzed way. Unable to enjoy her time alone. Her mother would often try to snap her out of it by saying 'no news is good news'. Like saying it repeatedly would make it sink in. It never really did.

It was not an overly ugly divorce, but it was amplified by Persephonè's own pain. The anger she carried toward herself came from realizing how limited her ability to protect Anne truly was. Mitch and the culture he came from would always have influence over Anne. It was a hard pill to swallow. Mitch didn't make it any easier either. He was ordered to pay child support which seemed to infuriate him. He scolded Persephonè on what she was allowed to spend the money on. Anne had more clothes than she could wear while Persephonè quietly patched together the rest of life with whatever was left. It wasn't until her mother explained that child support was meant to keep the household alive, not just the child's closet, that Persephonè realized how completely Mitch had controlled even her understanding of money. It was these small, much needed lessons, that helped Persephonè grow. And they were only able to happen because she was away from Mitch.

It was a bit odd to feel like a burden and trapped at the same time. Luckily, Persephonè's mother told her about food stamps and low income housing. She didn't even know those programs existed. This could get her a much needed first step towards independence. She could contribute more food to the house and use more of the child support for other necessities. She got herself on a wait list for low income housing and set up an appointment to see if she qualified for any of the programs. Her mother met her at the facility, which reminded her of going to the doctors office as a child. It seemed off from the start. The waiting room was cold and lifeless. The receptionist's expression carried judgment without a single word. When a man opened the door to call them back, she could feel her value diminish with every step. As she sat there explaining her position, the man resorted to talking with her mom instead. He then went on a tangent and said:

"How are we to know she will be able to keep her legs together so this doesn't happen again?"

Her mother nodded in agreement and voiced her disappointment in her daughter. Persephonè felt like she was having an out of body experience. Watching two people talk about her as if she was not there. If her own mother couldn't stick up for her, what did that mean?

Once the man got all the info he needed about the home life, her mom was free to go. Only Persephonè and the man remained. He informed her that she did not qualify for any assistance since she didn't have a separate kitchen. She didn't understand how much lower a person had to fall before they were deserving of help. Completely defeated, she calmly made her way to the front desk to retrieve her things. She was determined not to let these people see her cry. She tried so hard to keep the tears in, but they swelled. The front desk lady noticed, but said nothing. Persephonè, always trying to do the right thing, kindly said "thank you" and left. She had no sooner shut the car door than her phone rang. It was the man who had just turned her away.

"I guess you do qualify."

Apparently crying was a requirement.