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Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
The sound of heavy drops against the brittle window pane echoed throughout his bones.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
Focusing on anything but the shouts that almost deafened the sound of the storm outside.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
The screaming echoed throughout the entire house, all the way up into the tiny room he was locked in.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.
Nothing was happening. It was just another storm. Just another-
A blood-curdling cry forced him to slam his hands over his ears, his eyes already squozen shut in vain.
PITTER-PATTER.
Why couldn't the rain drown out the noise? It was supposed to drown it out. Mommy said not to listen, just focus on the raindrops. But the raindrops weren't loud enough, Mommy. He could still hear everything. And it was okay, he was a strong boy. He was used to sitting in the dark in the tiny room with the brittle window. But today it was too scary. No matter how hard he tried to drown it out, it just wouldn't go away.
Pitter-patter. Pitter-pat-
"June!"
The wailing of his name cut through any other noise in the house. His head shot up from where it was pressed against his knees and his eyes were torn wide open as he froze in fear. Why was Mommy calling his name? She had never done that before. She would always do her best to keep him out of it, keep him safe.
There was more banging and clattering, the sound of the rain having become mere background noise. She didn't call his name again, but he was sure she had. She needed his help.
Don't come down, okay June? Baby, no matter what you hear you stay put in that room, alright? Keep it locked like you always do.
He got to his feet and reached up to turn the lock on the old door. When he dared to push the wooden slate open a crack, the shouting only got louder. With every step he took towards the top of the stairs, his small feet made no sound in the woolen socks Mommy had knitted for him.
"That stupid fucking boy is all you care about! He's worthless! He's fucking worthless! The both of you deserve to rot in hell!"
"He's your son!"
His feet moved down one step at a time, his hands clutching the banister as he descended in the dark. There was a little bit of light coming from around the corner at the bottom. Right from the kitchen where it sounded like a table had been thrown over.
Pitter-patter.
One more step and he'd have reached the bottom.
Pitter-patter.
A few more steps to Mommy.
Pitter-patter.
He was at the bottom of the stairs, looking right into the dim kitchen, but Mommy wasn't calling to him anymore. She was screaming as she wriggled around on the ground. His father was on top of her, keeping her trapped beneath him as one of his hands was raised far above his head. Something he was holding gleamed in the yellow light.
YOU ARE READING
Glass Half Empty
Action"You need to get out of all this before it's too late", his tone was frantic, pleading almost. "Get out of this?", she tilted her head, "Why would I want to get out of this?" That was when he knew she had slipped a little too far to turn back. ~~~ T...
