Momscrolling

Hey, whoa there. Slow down. This one's weird.

(1) This tragedy is told one line at a time. If the endless scrolling starts to hurt, please consider taking a short rest. Slow, gentle reading is recommended. (2) All sexual relationships take place between consenting adults; however, this is a work of surrealism, and highly sensitive readers should proceed with caution, as the incest depicted here is more stressful than usual. (3) Mom's psyche is disfigured, and her story reflects this in both form and content. Apologies if experimental fiction is heretical to your tastes, but I tried submitting this to Poetry and it got kicked back for having a plot. So here it stays, big and proud and upsetting to you.

Still reading, then? Neat. Thank you, and good luck.

.:bw:.

Mom calls Dad on his way to work.

Dad seems distracted.

He mutters something as he pulls into his office parking garage.

Mom pauses and says, Hon, are you listening?

Dad says, Shoot, that's odd. Oh.

Dad hangs up abruptly.

Daughter calls Mom and asks for a ride home from high school.

She's not feeling well.

Mom calls Dad.

It goes straight to voicemail.

A police officer interrupts Mom on her way to her car.

Dad has been caught with porn on his work computer.

Mom says, What kind of porn?

He has been arrested at work on charges of production of incest pornography, sale and distribution of same, and incest.

Mom says, Incest?

Mom says, With who?

The officer calls Mom 'Ma'am.'

The officer says, I'm truly sorry to be the one to tell you this.

At the station, Mom talks to Dad through a plate glass divider.

At home, she talks to Daughter through a locked bedroom door.

Mom calls the police station, is told he's being arraigned.

The bail is high.

Mom calls the court, is told his case has not been assigned a trial date.

A reporter calls and asks about the arrest, does she have a comment.

She hangs up on the reporter.

Dad's employer calls, he is suspended from work without pay.

She calls Dad's boss, who does not pick up the phone.

Dad's employer emails the suspension, and it says the same thing: he is suspended from work without pay.

She prints a copy of the email, sets it aside.

A lawyer calls, Dad has requested her help.

The lawyer asks if Dad is guilty.

The lawyer says he is not asking her opinion, just wants to know the facts.

She doesn't answer.

The lawyer calls again, asks her to think about whether there is any information that could support Dad's innocence.

There isn't.

The lawyer says, I am not saying I believe him. I'm asking you, do you have any information?

No.

The lawyer says, Think about this carefully. It's very important.

I don't have anything for you.

The lawyer says, You need a lawyer.

She has no idea where to start looking.

She opens her laptop and starts a search for a criminal defense lawyer.

Daughter's teacher calls and says, We're having a hard time getting her to focus in class.

Do you think she'd be interested in tutoring?

A therapist calls and among other things says, Your daughter is a very good artist.

A reporter calls and asks how her daughter is coping with the arrest.

Mom hangs up.

Daughter refuses to speak to her, but will not let Mom into her room to check on her.

Mom knocks.

Daughter yells through the door, Leave me alone.

Dad's lawyer calls.

A judge has released Dad from jail.

His trial will start next month.

Mom calls the public defender's office, is told the same thing.

Mom calls the prosecutor, is told the same thing.

The trial is the first week of November.

Daughter goes to the therapist, who asks her to draw a picture.

The therapist asks, What's happening in this picture?

They are going on a date.

Is that you and your boyfriend?

I don't have a boyfriend.

It's you and your friend?

No.

The camera is a symbol, the therapist says.

The therapist says, What's the meaning of the camera?

The therapist says, Your daughter has made a great deal of progress in a short period of time.

Dad comes home from jail and goes straight to bed.

He only makes one appearance in front of Mom.

When he does, he does not look at her.

Daughter does not come out of her room.

The phone rings.

Dad's employer has decided not to pursue criminal charges.

That's good, the lawyer says. That's good.

Mom says, So he's off the hook?

I can't guarantee he's off the hook, the lawyer says. But this is a good development.

Daughter will not speak to her.

Mom knocks.

Daughter yells.

Mom knocks.

Mom says, I'll get the screwdriver if I have to.

Daughter opens the door.

Her eyes are red, her face is swollen, her hair is tangled.

Daughter sits down on the floor.

Mom sits across from her.

They sit like that for a long time.

Mom says, Talk to me.

Daughter says, I don't want him to go to prison.

Something inside Mom dies.

Daughter sniffles.

Mom says, We have to talk to the police.

Daughter says, No.

Mom says, They'll keep him in jail.

Daughter says, No.

Mom says, Yes.

Daughter says, He didn't do anything wrong.

Mom says, Yes, he did.

Daughter says, No, he didn't.

Mom says, Daughter, he did.

Daughter's face turns red.

Mom says, They will send him to prison, where they will hurt him for what he did to you.

Daughter starts to cry.

Mom says, He hurt you, so they'll hurt him.

Daughter says, He didn't hurt me! I'm eighteen!

Mom says, He did hurt you. You don't understand yet, but you will.

Mom gets on her knees and crawls over to her daughter.

Mom hugs her daughter angrily.

Mom rocks her daughter back and forth.

Mom kisses her daughter's cheek.

Mom smells her daughter's hair.

Mom rubs her daughter's back.

Mom sings her daughter's favorite song.

Mom sings softly.

Mom sings gently.

Mom sings soothingly.

Daughter falls asleep.

Daughter wakes up.

It is Halloween.

They are in front of the lion exhibit.

There are no lions.

The exhibit is empty.

Mom and Dad are disappointed.

Daughter is not.

Daughter climbs up on the bench and puts her arms on the rail.

She rests her chin on the top of the rail and gazes at the empty exhibit.

Her eyes are big.

Her smile is wide.

Dad kneels down and snaps a photo.

Mom is smiling.

Mom is laughing.

Dad is kneeling down, he is taking the photo, his smile is small, his eyes are squinted, his nose is wrinkled.

He is looking through the camera.

The police surprise him when they take him away.

Mom is upset to see them, even though she'd counted the seconds to their arrival.

Something about the sheer meaning of them.

How could he do this to them?

Mom gets brave and calls her lawyer later that week.

Mom asks if she can look at these videos her husband made.

She says, I have to.

After all those years together.

The lawyer invites Mom to his office.

He leaves her alone at his computer.

Mom throws up two minutes into the first video.

Daughter is smiling, happy, enamored with the attention she is getting.

Mom finds this harder to look at than the teen's nudity.

Daughter looks emotionally deformed, standing there grinning.

Smiling.

Grinning.

Comfortably naked for Dad.

Mom stops the video and stares at the screen.

Daughter looks like a stranger.

Mom has to look away.

She tries a second video, then a third.

She can't watch her daughter smile like that, she can't watch her daughter smile at all.

Mom tells the lawyer she doesn't need to look at any more.

Daughter's room is a disaster.

The sheets and blankets have been ripped off the bed.

The desk is bare, the drawers have been pulled out, their contents dumped on the floor.

The closet doors have been thrown open.

Daughter's clothes are scattered around the room.

The posters have been torn from the walls.

The trash can has been tipped over, tissues strewn.

Daughter's phone is gone.

The laptop is gone.

Daughter is gone.

Mom calls her.

The call goes straight to voice mail.

She calls her again.

The call goes straight to voice mail.

It is a beautiful cloudy day.

Daughter has a backpack slung over her left shoulder.

She is wearing jeans, sneakers, a hoodie, her hair is unbrushed.

She is walking slowly.

She is looking down.

Her hair covers her face.

Her arms are limp.

Her guilt drags along the ground behind her.

Her phone is buzzing.

It is in her right hand.

The call goes straight to voicemail.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Mom is calling her.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The therapist's office is in a strip mall.

Daughter is sitting in a chair.

The therapist is sitting in a chair.

Neither of them is looking at the other.

The therapist is looking out the window.

Daughter is looking at the floor.

The therapist says, You're safe now.

You're safe.

I'm so glad you're here.

The therapist reaches out a hand and strokes Daughter's head.

The therapist's fingers are gentle.

Daughter leans her head into the touch.

The therapist's voice is gentle.

You're safe, the therapist says.

Mom is watching TV.

The news is on.

A reporter is standing outside the courthouse.

The reporter is a middle-aged white woman with big hair.

The reporter is talking into a microphone.

She says, The defendant pleaded guilty today to multiple counts of possession and distribution of incest pornography.

The reporter is reading off a piece of paper.

The reporter says, He also pleaded guilty to several counts of production of incest pornography, and three counts of incest.

Another reporter appears and says, Do we have any details on the nature of these charges?

The first reporter says, I'm afraid we are still awaiting details.

The other reporter says, Do we at least know if the victim is underage?

The reporter says, The victim's name and age have not been released.

Mom says to the TV, She's eighteen!

Mom says to the TV, For Christ's sake, you would KNOW if he was arrested for--!

The reporter says, But, ah, court documents indicate that there are currently no charges for child pornography, ahm, child abuse, or-or the like.

Mom says to the TV, There we go.

The other reporter says, The victim was not present today for the plea agreement?

A third reporter butts in, We keep calling her 'the victim,' but if we're assuming she's eighteen, then we're talking about a consenting adult, here.

This third reporter uses his fingers to draw 'air quotes.'

The third reporter says, I hope I don't get 'canceled' for saying this, but why hasn't she been taken into custody, if this young woman committed the very same crime of incest?

The reporter at the courthouse says, That's a, um, an interesting question, Jim.

The reporter is wearing a jacket and skirt.

The reporter has a microphone in her hand.

The camera pulls back.

It is a bright, sunny day.

A small crowd has gathered behind the reporter.

Some of the people are holding signs.

One of the signs says, RAPIST.

One of the signs says, BURN IN HELL.

One of the signs says, YOUR OWN DAUGHTER??.

One of the signs says, DEAD BEAT.

One of the signs says, MOLESTER.

One of them is wearing a sandwich board.

Their sign has a lengthy bible verse scrawled in black marker.

Mom frowns at it.

The TV switches back to the anchor.

Mom changes the channel.

The news is on another station.

A different reporter is talking.

This reporter is a young Black man.

The reporter is wearing a jacket and tie.

The reporter is saying, The defendant is expected to plead guilty to a series of crimes related to the possession and distribution of incest pornography.

The reporter is reading off a piece of paper.

Reportedly, the defendant will plead guilty to over a dozen counts of production of incest pornography, and two counts of incest. Excuse me, three counts of incest.

Sentencing is scheduled for next week.

Mom turns off the TV and goes to get herself a Large Diet Coke from McDonalds.

She is not feeling well.

Daughter is sitting at a table in a small room.

There is a notepad and a pen on the table.

Daughter is not looking at the notepad.

She is not looking at the pen.

The therapist is standing behind her.

Daughter has her hands in her lap.

She is not looking at the notepad.

She is not looking at the pen.

On the wall, a clock is ticking.

Daughter is staring straight ahead.

The therapist is standing behind her.

Mom is driving a car.

Mom is wearing sunglasses.

The windows are down.

The music is turned up.

It's a beautiful sunny day.

The air smells clean.

The sky is blue.

The birds are chirping.

Daughter is in the passenger seat.

Mom says, I'm sorry.

Daughter is asleep with her head resting on the humming, bumping interior of Mom's car.

Mom says, I'm just struggling to understand.

Mom says, How did it start?

Daughter is sleeping soundly.

Mom says, Do you know how hard this is for me?

Daughter is sleeping deeply.

Mom almost rear-ends somebody at a stop sign.

She swears and stomps the brake pedal.

Mom says, You don't think things through.

Mom says, I don't hate you, but I hate what you did.

Mom says, You've gotten so selfish.

Mom says, Are you sleeping?

Mom says, Do you know how hard this is for me?

The turn signal ticks.

Tick-TICK-tick-TICK-tick-TICK.

Mom pulls into the driveway.

The tires crunch gravel.

The radio goes quiet.

Mom shuts off the car and opens the door.

Mom walks around to the other side and opens Daughter's door.

Daughter's head falls.

Daughter's body slumps.

Her hair covers her face.

Her arms flop.

Daughter is drooling.

Mom puts her arm under Daughter's shoulders.

Mom pulls Daughter out of the car.

Daughter is groggy.

She can barely stand.

She has no strength.

Mom has to hold her.

Daughter's feet shuffle on the gravel.

Mom guides her toward the house.

They go up the stairs.

They go across the porch.

Mom leads Daughter into the house.

The kitchen is bright.

The floor is clean.

The sink is empty.

The stove is cold.

Mom steers Daughter down the hall.

They go past the bathroom.

They go past the spare room.

Mom pushes open the door to Daughter's bedroom.

The bed is made.

The carpet is vacuumed.

The havoc Daughter had created before she left, tidied.

Mom says, You want help getting into bed?

Daughter is asleep.

Daughter is in a courtroom.

The ceiling is high.

The lights are bright.

There is a table.

Dad is sitting at the table.

He is wearing a suit.

His face is drawn.

His cheeks are hollow.

His eyes are vacant.

His lips tremble occasionally.

He is sitting in a chair.

His hands are folded on the table.

He has coffee in a small soft-looking styrofoam cup.

He is looking at his hands.

There is a clock on the wall.

The hands point at 12 and 1.

There are no windows.

It is a large, quiet, serious room.

Mom is sitting next to Daughter.

Daughter is wearing a sweatshirt.

Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail.

Daughter is not looking at Dad.

Mom is not looking at Dad.

Dad is not looking at Mom.

He is looking at his hands.

The coffee is untouched.

Mom takes Daughter's hand.

Daughter pulls away.

The prosecutor stands.

He is a tall white man in a dark suit.

He has a stack of papers in his hand.

He says, Your honor, the defendant is guilty of multiple counts of possession and distribution of incest pornography, along with three counts of incest and one count of sexual assault.

The prosecutor says, We have evidence—

Mom's phone vibrates.

One new email.

It is in her lap.

Daughter is sitting next to her mother.

Daughter is staring straight ahead.

The phone buzzes again.

Mom burns with embarrassment.

The prosecutor says, —and testimony to corroborate the victim's account.

The prosecutor says, In addition, the victim has given a statement and agreed to testify against her father.

Mom gets up and goes to the bathroom.

She throws up her eggs and coffee.

She rinses her mouth and washes her face.

She is sweating.

Her hands are shaking.

She checks her phone.

Mom leaves the bathroom.

She goes back into the courtroom.

Dad's lawyer is an older white man with a large head and a full beard.

He has a briefcase on the table.

He is looking at his phone.

Why does everyone have their phones out?

Isn't this a courtroom?

The prosecutor is talking.

The judge is a white woman in her 50s.

She seems distracted by something.

She says, Pardon me, Steven. Pardon me.

The judge holds up her phone.

The prosecutor stops talking.

She says, I'm just now seeing here, I've been sent an email that contains, ah, some rather upsetting, ahm—.

Mom frowns.

The judge squints.

The judge is frowning.

The judge says, Siobhan, look.

The bailiff approaches the bench.

The judge says, Can you believe this?

The defense attorney is showing Dad something on his phone too.

What is happening, Daughter asks.

Nothing, Mom says.

Mom's stomach is cramping.

Mom feels like she is going to throw up again.

What's going on, Mom?

Nothing.

The bailiff is saying, Oh my goodness.

The judge hands her phone to the bailiff and says something quietly that induces a nod from the bailiff.

The judge explains to the courtroom that she has just received an anonymous email containing some imagery that she wishes she could un-see.

She says, If any of you receive such a message, please refrain from opening it.

Mom has gotten the message.

The bailiff comes over to where Mom and Daughter are sitting and says, Would you mind stepping outside for a moment, please?

Dad's defense attorney asks if he may approach the bench.

He is already saying something about discovery and a mistrial.

The prosecutor has not sat back down.

The judge says, This is ridiculous.

Mom says, It wasn't me.

Daughter asks, What is going on?

The prosecutor says, Can't we deal with this after the sentencing, Your Honor?

Daughter asks, Mom?

The judge is rubbing her temples.

She says, No, hold your horses, Steven.

She says, This is—, this was not okay.

She says, We need to figure out who sent these.

Daughter asks, Mom?

She has stood up and joined the bailiff in giving Mom an expectant look.

Dad's defense attorney says, Your Honor, this is highly irregular.

The judge says, Hold on.

Mom's phone vibrates.

It is not a text.

She has an email.

From a Gmail address.

Anon7777777@qmail.cum.

She clicks on it.

It is a video file.

The title is "FILTHY SLUT".

Mom is shaking.

The room is spinning.

The blood rushes out of her head.

Mom has to sit down.

Daughter asks, What is going on?

Mom is shaking.

Mom is pale.

Mom is sweating.

Mom is nauseous.

Mom is having a panic attack.

Mom is hyperventilating.

Mom's breath is fast and shallow.

Mom's heart is pounding.

Mom's palms are sweaty.

Mom is scared.

The prosecutor says, Can we please address this later, Your Honor?

The judge says, Hang on. Ma'am?

The judge says, Excuse me, ma'am?

Is she okay, Shiv?

The judge is pointing at Mom.

The bailiff is asking Mom to breathe.

Mom's phone vibrates.

A second email comes in.

From Anon7777777@qmail.cum.

Another video.

Another title.

"SINNER".

Mom's hands are shaking.

Mom is terrified.

Mom's heart is racing.

Mom's head is throbbing.

Mom's throat is dry.

Mom is scared.

Mom is so, so scared.

Daughter starts to cry, and tells the bailiff not to touch Mom.