A Gift of Curses

14 years previous

  I was three and a half when I would watch the hand of my father strike across my mothers face. My mother would let it happen because like she always told me " I'm doing this for you and me okay" she would cry to me, "but don't worry I have far greater plans for us, just always remember that." I don't know what she means by that, until my fourth birthday my father walks in drunk enough to have forgotten that he went out for my gift in the first place. Never in the world would my mother let him approach me while he was in this state of mind, he knew better. However, he stepped one step closer and gently brushed two fingers down my face. I smiled, for that was the daddy I remembered. Out of nowhere he starts laughing and so I decided to laugh with him, but like everything I do that was a mistake. I feel a long fire-burning strike pierce the side of my head nocking me to a black sleep. Except the last thing I see is my mother squeezing her hand with all her might, and my father...well you already know what happened to him.