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"No!!!" I could hear my mother’s blood curdling scream, high-pitched and terrified beyond belief. It was agonizing to listen to her. Hearing her in such pain and suffering.
I was crouched down hiding among a thick patch of rose bushes in the pitch black of the mid-night. It was cold and I clenched my fists together in anger and fright.
I could taste my salty tears rolling down my rosy red cheeks to the corners of my mouth. My angel blue eyes shown in what very little moonlight there was.
I folded my arms and lyed my head down. It was all like a horrible video tape just playing over and over in my head, the flashbacks wouldnt stop.
"Honey, clean up please, ok?" My mom asked me standing up from the table. "Yes, mam." I answed as I clear off the table and head over to the sink.
I could hear my mothers small feet shuffleing over to her bedroom, when the front door bangs open letting in the cold rainy air.
My daddy was standing there, he smelled of achohol and smoke. I could tell he was drunk and I knew he was coming home from Charlie’s Bar. He had a devious look in his eyes that frightened me slightly.
He looked at me and then over to mother. "What are you doing?" He asks, almost yells at mom. "I was j-j-just—-" She stutters before he cuts her off. "and just what the bloody hell is she still doing up?" He gestures over to me.
He staggers over to mom, cursing below his breath at practicaly nothing at all. He looks her dead in the eye. She backs away slowly almost it seemed as if she were whimpering like a dog with its tail between its legs.
He chuckles, his dark black brows raising. He slapps her once, twice, and then a third. The plates crash as they fall from my grip.
She begans to cry and tells me to go to my bedroom. My feet are nailed to the floor. I cant move, the scene of such violence from my father strucks my mind so powerfully.
He soon begins to stagger over toward me. I jump out of his way over to my mother. He continues to walk until he reaches the silverwear drawer and pulls out a sharpened silver blade. I began to cry as my mother yells at me to run, to run away to not question me to just obey.
I cant move though, I just stand there like a complete statue. Mother runs up to Father and trys to fight him off. He slices the knife into her upper thigh and she falls to the floor. The pain from the blade puts her in such shock that her brain cannot focus she just lies there unable to do anything, paralyzed.
I run to the front door as my father grabs my forearm. I turn and bite down into his thick arm. I can taste his warm, bitter blood as it trickles down from my chin from my mouth.
Yelling he throws me at the door unclenching my jaws feirce grip. My head slams against the hard brass golden doorknob. Grabbing my head I can feel where my head had collided with the doorknob. I felt the blood trickle down the back of my head.
He pulls me by my hair. Throwing me again at the wall. I roll over and stand to face him. He pushes me again and I fall, this time rolling over to grab his right ankel. With my tight grips around his ankle I bite into his shin closing down on my jaws grip. He falls to the ground with his voice bellowing out a horrid sound. I look up to see my mother beating with all her might at my father with a skillet.
I seize my opportunity fast! I stand and without thinking I sprint fast to the front door. Taking my last look at my mother, I run.
Pumping my legs as hard as I could.
Tags: achohol, angel blue eyes, anger, belief, bloody hell, brows, bushes, coming home, fists, flashbacks, honey, legs, look in his eyes, mid night, moonlight, pain and suffering, pitch, red cheeks, salty tears, video tape