9 years ago;
I fell under the flailing blows, teas washing over the bruises and blood on my face. “Daddy?” my voice cracked.
I fell under the flailing blows, teas washing over the bruises and blood on my face. “Daddy?” my voice cracked.
“No!” He was sobbing almost as hard as me.
“She’s gone, and it’s all your fault, you stupid girl.” He gripped one skinny
wrist, but I twisted and got away.
I ran out onto the street, red splattering
the dirty gray walkway. Hot tears screamed down my face, the salt falling into
the cuts and hurting even more. This was worse than any pain I had ever felt,
worse than when I had fallen off my tricycle. That time there was a loving
mother, to kiss my hair and fetch a Band-Aid. That mother was gone forever.
I turned back, wondering why. I saw daddy pull something heavy
and black out of his pocket. He pressed it to a throbbing temple and whispered,
just loud enough so I could hear, “I love you Marie.”
I ran,
almost knowing what was going to happen. I heard a gunshot echo over the
neighborhood, loud and sudden. I kept running, and I didn’t stop until dusk was
falling. When the sun was almost behind distant mountains, I reached a tree and
curled in a ball in between two thick roots.
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