Mirrors

The Beginning

< 2006 >

        I lay in my bed completely motionless. It was 3am and I was extremely tired, but mainly because of the images floating in my head. I couldn't stop it from playing in my mind over and over again. 

~

          I was fast asleep until I heard a loud bang, which I assumed to be the door swinging open and slamming into the wall. I checked my phone, 2:23am. I thought to myself, if David is home drunk again mom is going to spaz. But this time I refuse to help and become his so-called accomplice, again.  I can't believe he let me split the blame when I tried to help. Then suddenly my thought was interrupted by screaming that was definitely NOT my brother. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. It seemed as if my legs could not move as fast as I wanted them to. Running in the dark all I could focus on were the screams which was now clearly my mother. I froze just a step before I could enter the living room, just as the lights cut on. Apparently David, my older brother who was only 15, had started running before me and reached the living room first.

          "MOM!" he yelled running into the living room. The terror in his voice confirmed my worst fears. I peeked past the wall and saw my mom on the floor dripping blood from what seemed like everywhere. I was momentarily paralyzed. My brother was trying to hold my father back. He was failing and my father managed a swift kick to my mom's stomach that rushed the feeling back into my limbs.

         "STOP IT! PLEASE!"I screamed as I ran to hold back my father's other arm. Although I was only 12 and had very little strength it seemed to work. As my father turned down to look at me eyes still filled with rage his previously giant appearance seemed to shrink under my gaze and his resistance to his children lessened. We stayed like this for what seemed to be hours until Josh, my little brother, walked in rubbing his eyes as he adjusted to the light.

          "Mommy I'm so tired, tell lessy and-" he stopped as he realized what was going on. "MOMMY! MOMMY! NO MOMMY! YOU'RE HURT! MOMMY PLEASE DON'T BE HURT" he said as tears streamed down his face. "GUYS HELP!" he said looking up, but then realized what we were doing and after what seemed to be an eternity of silence, "Daddy?" he whispered in an almost inaudible voice. This broke our moment and my father pushed both David and I onto the ground. He stared at Josh, then at my mother, then me. His eyes met mine and I looked away immediately and I heard him walk away and slam the door shut behind him.

            "Shh, baby. Mommy is alright." I heard my mother whisper to Josh. She was now trying to comfort him to stop his crying, despite her busted lip and now completely swollen eye. He was 8 and was still treated like a baby of the family. She slowly got up, wincing at every movement, and walked with Josh out of the room, leaving David and I alone in the living room, in silence. Standing in the middle of the living room we stared at each other for what seemed to be about 20 minutes and almost simultaneously we broke the still silence and began to clean up. I got the bleach from the cabinet and he got the rags from the laundry room. Using our shirts to cover our mouths we began to scrub. After about 10 minutes of scrubbing the blood was gone and David stopped, but I kept scrubbing. The image of blood on the ground wouldn't leave my mind. My arms ached but I couldn't stop. Then my eyes seemed to fog up and I realized I was crying. I looked up and my brother was staring at the wall where we tried to restrain our father.  I watched him for a long time.

        "Kids," My mother said interrupting my thoughts. "I need you both to get to bed."

         "But mom-" I began to protest before she cut me off.

           "No!" Her stern voice petrified me. She saw my fear and in a softer tone she said "You will go to your rooms and get to sleep."