I Think I May Be Sorry

Glass shattered against the black tiled floor, and I sank to the carpeted ground, my head falling into my hands. My tangled hair fell in around my face, creating a second hiding place from the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world could still see me, if it really wanted too.

Heavy, angry foot falls resonated through the tiny, dingy house. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” A voice bellowed, and I buried my face into my knees, a tear slipping out of my eyes. I knew what was coming next. The footsteps tromped through the kitchen, and around the thin wall separating the kitchen and the room I had sought shelter in. The living room.

Now I know what you must be thinking- The living room? Really? Yes, really. It has the best hiding place I could think of. Since I was only five foot and nearly see through, I was pretty tiny. And I could squeeze into the compacted space between the couch and the wall, since she didn’t want the wall and the furniture to come into contact.

“Don’t hide, lovely. I know you’re in here,” her high-pitched, ear splitting voice slurred. She always did this- she could always find me. A master at what she liked to call hide-and-beat. She could find me no matter where I hid. Maybe she could smell fear. Maybe she was psychic. Or maybe I was just very predictable. But, no matter. She always found me. Always.

A strong, clammy hand found a handful of my hair in its grasp, and pulled me up. The back of the hard, stained, purple cloth couch dug into my back. I winced slightly, hoping she couldn’t tell.

“What was that darlin’?” She sneered. I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to push her farther. She dropped me on the floor, the carpet that once stood as a safe haven now a painful pyre. A fist collided with my face. I tried to hold in the cry, but I couldn’t. It escaped my lips, and right then, my life was on a balance. If the woman standing above me, a vicious smile on her face, would spare me some mercy, I could go back to my pretend world. But, if she didn’t… then who knows what would happen.

She laughed, and a foot collided with my ribs, a snap echoing through the room. I gasped as stars danced in front of my eyes, the dark colors of the walls blending with the pale, cream ceiling, painting the familiar picture of abuse I endured often. I gasped, pain slowly filling my body.

“Uh-uh-uh,” She chided. “Such a bad little girl. If only…” Her words were slurred, twisted. To some people, it would be hard to understand. But to me, it’s a language I knew too well.
“If only…” She sighed as she gave me one more smack to the head, and walked away as I lay sobbing on the floor, my body trembling. I was living in my own personal hell.

“Sorry, mommy…” I whispered, my lips shaking, as the world faded around me.