Noticed

Eleven

7 YEARS AGO....

"Daddy what are you doing?!"

"Go to your...room...pumpkin!"

"R-Rebecca, just go to your room....please..."

Something was wrong....she called me Rebecca.

I didn't know what else to do, so I went upstairs. I couldn't bare seeing my mom in my dad's arms like that.

I sat on the corner side of my bed, my knees hauled up against my chest. I began to cry because he was hurting her and I couldn't do anything to stop him, to save her. I looked up across the room and saw one of the landline phones sitting on my dresser. I must've left it here after talking to Ashley last night.

I immediately jumped off of my bed and bolted for the phone. With the phone in my hands, I dialed 9-1-1 and hoped this would save my mom.

"Hello, 9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

"H-Hi, um my-my dad's trying to hurt my mom. I-I think he's d-drunk or...or maybe crazy. I-I don't know, just please, please come right away." I said sobbing.

"Alright, calm down sweetheart. What's your address?"

"57 Havendale Drive."

"We're sending help right away."

I hung up the phone and immediately dropped it when I heard a faint thud followed by a scream.

"Mommy!" I shouted, running down the stairs.

"Rebecca do not come downstairs!", but it was too late. I stood in the kitchen and saw my dad pushing my mom up against the wall. She was in tears; she was shaking.

His fingers were gripped tightly around her wrists as he pressed her arms up against the fridge. Her left cheek was red from the slap and she was already bruising from the beatings he gave her.

"Daddy...please don't do this. Please stop."

He stared at me with his big blue eyes, almost sincerely, then the sincerity vanished and became pure anger.

"Don't you tell me what to do! You're a fucking child!" He shouted.

"Byron!" my mom screamed at my dad.

All of a sudden, my dad grabbed my mom and threw her into the wall opposite the fridge. She grunted in pain during the impact.

I began sobbing even more and couldn't even find the strength to stand anymore. My legs gave in and I found myself plopped on the ground with my legs folded, my face planted into my hands.

My dad started stumbling around with his hands flying all over, searching for something, until he grabbed a big cutting knife. He held it up to my mom's neck, ready to get rid of the woman he 'loved'.

"B-Byron....you don't wanna do this." she said, trying to persuade him.

"I-I have to Elle. I have to." he said drunkly.

Just as he was about to inject the knife to her stomach now, the police broke the door down shouting, "POLICE! STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!"

Shocked and taken by surprise, my dad dropped his knife where he stood. His hands free of my mother, she ran away from him and rushed towards me, taking me in her embrace.

"Becky I'm so sorry."

"No don't apologize mom. I love you."

"I love you too."