The Violence

by Delilah S. Dawson

As the Narcissist’s Prayer goes: That didn’t happen. And if it did, it wasn’t that bad. And if it was, that’s not a big deal. And if it is, that’s not my fault.

whether because their parents think it’s not an actual dager

When the Violence first broke out and people thought it was contagious, they repeated their coronavirus scare and bulldozed every shop for hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, and toilet paper. Once they realized it wasn’t contagious but that anyone could randomly break out in a Violence storm, those who could stayed away from public places—and

and other people—as much as possible. It’s almost funny, how America didn’t take Covid seriously because it was “just like the flu,” but now that a pandemic could result in being beaten to death, they’re a lot more willing to stay home.

With everyone staying home and avoiding crowds, plenty of stores have had to close, and since the mail carriers use open trucks and mosquitoes are everywhere, they got hit especially hard by

the Violence in the South, which has slowed down the delivery of the next-day packages everyone is so accustomed to. While life goes on in cooler climes, Florida is struggling to stay afloat with the effects of the pandemic.

Living with Dad taught her how to follow directions and stay out of the way while secretly seething with disdain. Open rebellion makes people angry. It earns punishment and grudges. It means that someone is always watching, expecting a problem. She now focuses on learning the rules and obeying them exactly to avoid pain, and most of the time it works. She can think whatever she wants to think as long as she flies under the radar and meets expectations. It’s hard,

sometimes, hiding behind a fake smile, but it keeps her from being hurt. It’s not like any of these people need to see who she is—or really want to.

no machine can disguise the squeak of a fart or the sharp bark of a cough, a sound that’s still startling even after everyone got the Covid vaccine and multiple boosters.

We need you strong, not skinny. Muscles and curves are all good here. Never make yourself smaller to suit someone who wants to feel big.”

As an only child with a non-hugging single mother and no family outside of her own home, Chelsea has never really gotten the hang of non-sexual

physical intimacy with strangers.

It’s not your fault. It’s something that happened to you, not something you let happen. That’s like saying you let a boulder fall on you. You didn’t

ask for it. If abusers telegraphed their playbook, there would be no victims.”

like most of America, Chelsea isn’t holding her breath on a free government shot. After the president fumbled the initial Covid response and vaccine so badly, no one trusts him this time around. If the pandemic had started before he was reelected, there’s no way he’d still be in charge.

as the president again

gutted the pandemic response team the moment he was back in power.

The amygdala gets hijacked during a Violence storm, and then it’s all used up for a little while afterward and can’t do much. You’re drained. You’re out of spoons.” “Out of hearts and hp,” River adds.

is that he and his cronies are big into free enterprise, which means they can’t legally use the existing vaccine, which means they’re trying to create a new one out of nothing with a skeleton crew because he already fired everyone who isn’t an idiot. You can’t count on the government.”

The thing about

raising kids who have to be the adult in the relationship is that you can’t be surprised when they act like adults.

But then you can never get it again. Leanne says it’s unlikely to mutate.

It’s not like Covid or the flu, changing all the time. If we can spread it far enough, it’ll just…go away. That’s what’s so frustrating. It’s a relatively easy cure, but because of capitalism and bureaucracy and outright theft, what should be free for everyone is suddenly the main weapon in class warfare.”

Let’s say you’re super rich and you don’t like brown people or poor people. And then let’s say a pandemic strikes Florida, the South, Central America, Africa. And you can suddenly put a lot of those people you don’t like in jail for no reason—in jail, and therefore into for-profit prisons. Or you can let them kill each other in the

privacy of their own homes. You can deport people you don’t like, forcibly sterilize people you don’t like.”

You probably haven’t done a deep dive on the prison system, but it’s not pretty. It’s a tool of oppression. Anyway, they could’ve solved this already. The cure costs almost nothing. Every lab in the country has the necessary equipment. AP kids could make this shit in high school. But instead, they sell it to the highest bidder and wipe all mention of it from the web and the news.” They look directly into Ella’s eyes. “All on purpose, because it serves their interests.”

I would say she actually sees everything as a fight. As a threat. That

happens when you grow up without enough.” “Enough what?”

He shrugs. “Enough of whatever you think you need. You scrabble for what’s there, defend what you have, and see everyone else as the enemy. If you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail. But if you’re a starving bird, every bit of p...

Chelsea’s breath catches. What he’s saying rings so true—but not about her. David is the hammer, her mother is the bird. “Yeah, I’ve known people like that. Do you think they’ll ever be able ...

“The thing about changing is that first, you have to want to change. And change is uncomfortable. To decide to change and then follow through with it and then maintain it is the work of a lifetime.” He nods. “But I do think it’s possible. More for the bird than the hammer.

The thing is, she always thought that David’s cruelty arose from her, from the fact that she wasn’t what he needed or wanted, that she wasn’t doing her part in the marriage, that she wasn’t enough. After growing up with a single mom who was rarely home and when she was, spent most of her time sleeping and reading and making it clear that her daughter was an annoyance, she decided early on that she would fully commit to her marriage and her children, that she would succeed where her mother, she always assumed, had failed.

Arlene told her that trauma doesn’t mean you’re broken, doesn’t mean that things will never get better again. That it becomes a part of you, and if you can face it and shake hands with it and find a way to move on together, you’ll always be better off than people who shove theirs down or, weirdly, people who’ve never had trauma at all.

Your trauma is part of what makes you a survivor,” Arlene told her one morning. “It wired your brain to always be ready, always be thinking, and when you needed to act to stay alive and protect yourself, you were ready to do it. You didn’t hesitate. You’re a survivor. And you’re not alone. Everyone here is a survivor, too.

To the survivors. I used to blame myself for not doing more. For not leaving earlier. For not pushing back. For not fighting him. Now I am kinder to the younger version of me. Now I believe that survival is enough.

To my husband, Craig, for spending the last twenty-four years as my unofficial therapist. I’m so grateful that when I say, “I’m broken; please fix me,” my partner and best friend is happy to talk about my feelings.

To Betsy the therapist, who told me it wasn’t my fault.

To Ms. Wolfe, Dr. Huntley, and Jan Gibbons, who helped me navigate high school life while I hid the fact that I was a complete mess from my peers.

And to my mom, who got us both out of there alive. Living well is the best revenge.