The night is one of loneliness and sadness, covering the walls of our home. The thunder beats down like the bass of a big drum to create a somewhat eerie night.
“Daddy, what’s wrong!”
He doesn’t hear me, or he doesn’t want to hear me as he flees out the front door like an eagle swooping down on prey. My mind wonders if daddy and mommy have fought again. There is this feeling of discomfort and negativity as if they have fought again. Fear encompasses me, making things seem that I will lose my parents like the other kids in the neighborhood. I’m glad he doesn’t hit my mommy, like Mr. Johnson hits Mrs. Johnson next door. I should go upstairs and check on her to see if she needs me. CRASH! The thunder is beating harder and harder every minute. For some reason, climbing these stairs seems longer than usual, or is it simply I think too much? She is quiet, but I know she will want to see me. I’m her little helper. “Mommy,” I say in a soft voice, “Are you okay?”
“Baby you shouldn’t be in here.”
I just came to see if you needed my help, responding.
“Come give me a hug.”
Running to her, she hugged me with such strength and told me,
“Go check on your sister.”
Checking on the baby was fun. I was helping my mother, so anything that was done to help was fun. She has the prettiest little eyes; yet I should be sure not to disturb her though. She’s cranky when she wakes up. The baby was okay, so maybe mom needs me to do something else. It will be dinnertime in an hour, and maybe she needs some help cooking. CRASH! CRASH! I hope the baby doesn’t wake from all this noise. As my little legs climb to the top of the stairs, my mom’s door is closed. I’ll just crack it a little bit to see what, BOOM! Momma, Momma, MOMMA!
The same thought clouds my mind everyday. I play it back constantly, over and over until my head throbs. Could there have been something done to stop her? Why did she do it? Why did she leave us this way? I’m grown and moved on, but feelings of loneliness and discouragement tear away, like something is eating me up from the inside out. What is my problem? I have a good job and the things I wanted to do I’ve done. When driving home everyday, my mind is thinking the same thing over and over, my car passing the same homes, feeling as if I am driving into an abyss every single day. Often times, I glance at the homes and wonder if they have a home like mine, lonely and dark. It is sad when you know what is really eating you alive and you can’t do anything about it.
It is interesting to me how a person can be happy, but depressed at the same time. A person can grow accustomed to this type of existence. At least I can admit it to myself that I am such a person. Living inside my mind and thoughts, instead of reality, pretty much guides me thorough my days and nights. As the car gets closer and closer to my home, my feelings deepen, thinking of what awaits me beyond the doors. The neighborhood itself is wonderful, and rich in family values. It is summer, so the children are in full swing, enjoying the atmosphere that their parents have provided for them. On television, we used to watch these shows that represented neighborhoods such as this, and I can remember always wanting to raise my family in the same type of area. At this point, there is no family arising in the midst of my chaos and worries. When thinking of my home, home is a place where there is no love, no feeling, and definitely no respect.