When Eyes Close And Minds Wander

My crappy stereo was on repeat, playing the same jovial song over and over. It was a song that I could sing to at the top of my lungs, forgetting all about the imperfections in my life and just focus on the words that came out of the crackling speakers. Everyone has a certain song that when it comes on the radio, you’ll turn it up and just sing your heart out not caring if anyone around you listened in. I hopped around my room cleaning and straightening things up in the best mood I’ve been in for a few weeks. Today I received grade sheets from each one of my classes and I had earned A’s in every single subject, even chemistry. Plus, I was home alone at the moment lightening my mood even more. I knew as soon as my parents got home my cheery disposition would vanish, so for now I was just trying to enjoy it while it lasted. During the following hour I danced around, sang at the top of my lungs, ate the pint of ice cream I had stashed away in the back of the freezer, and even jumped up and down on the couch.

At around 5 o’clock I heard the back door open and a pair of car keys jingling. I practically threw myself at the stereo hastily trying to shut it off before it angered anyone. The blaring music ceased and I froze, trying to listen to who might have come home. “Honey?” I heard a woman’s voice call out hesitantly.

“Mom?” I called back.

“Yeah honey, it’s me,” she paused hesitant, “is your father home?” I shook my head before answering. My mother was suddenly in my doorway with a hassled expression on her face. I usually didn’t see much of my mother. She worked two jobs and rarely had time to come home in between.

“Mom, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you at the hospital working?” My mother shushed me abruptly.

“Don’t worry about that. Start packing, we’re leaving right away,” she rushed. My mind froze. I sat staring at the doorway not really seeing anything in particular. My mother had disappeared from sight, coming back moments later carrying two backpacks. She tossed one in front of me, the straps landing on my hands. “Come on honey, hurry up. You can take whatever you can fit in that backpack. We don’t have very long.” My mother hurried out of the room once more. I could hear her moving about her room opening drawers and rustling around. “I don’t hear you packing,” my mothers voice carried down the hall into my room, “we don’t have much time.” I jumped up off the bed as if it had electrocuted me and ran around the room trying to decide on what to take and what to leave behind.

It had finally hit me what was exactly going on. We had talked about it before, but I never thought it would come to that time. We were leaving this house, leaving this life, but mostly leaving my father. My mother must have received that big paycheck she’d been waiting for. I was stressed and anxious as I snatched things to shove in the small backpack in my hands. Some things I had to leave behind, like my trusty stereo and all my worn out, shabby CDs. I was looking at things in my room that I would never see again.

My heart stopped beating when I heard the back door slam. I scrambled off my bed and made my way swiftly through the living room to the kitchen. When I rounded the corner my mother surprised me as she ran passed me back to her bedroom. I heard her sliding closet door open and slam shut as she took refuge deep within, underneath piles of clothes. I heard a deep almost roar like rumble came from the backdoor. My head snapped around to face my father. His face was bright red and a vein on his forehead threatened to burst. My body started trembling fiercely as terror erupted sending shockwaves from my brain to my stomach. I grasped the door jam, my knuckles straining from pressure turning them white. My father’s eyes burned into mine like piercing daggers. My breath hitched and my knees felt weak. My father glimpsed down at a packed duffle bag that lay just inside the door before throwing his gaze back at me.

“What the fuck is that! Are you cunts trying to leave? You can’t fucking leave!” My father roared making the ground quake under my feet. He started forward, I released the breath I’d been holding in and my body went into slight convulsions. My mind was cleared abruptly when my father’s hand clamped around my arm. I panicked and tried to run unable to go far. His fingers were wrapped around my forearm very nearly crushing bone. I screamed and tore my arm from his bruising grip. Turning I took off running into the living room. My father’s angered cry could be heard as he ran after me. Even though I was small and a great runner somehow my father with his solid heavy frame seemed to always catch up with me. I could hear his jagged breathing not far behind.

For some reason the heavy dark wood coffee table had been pulled out in front of the walkway blocking my path to the hallway. Without slowing down I promptly jumped up and over the table. Luckily, the raging bull behind me was chasing so close his shins slammed straight into the bulky table. I heard a strangled yell as the table most likely broke skin when it collided with his legs. I didn’t stop to see if he fell but continued to run for my bedroom.

“Come back here you whore! Who the fuck do you think you’re kidding,” my father screamed. I skidded into my room, whipped around, and slammed the door shut. I turned the deadbolt and leaned against the door. Tears started streaming down my face turning into racking sobs. I screamed frightened by something heavy slamming into the other side of my door. Fists bombarded the thin piece of wood separating me and certain disfigurement, possibly homicide. I screamed leaning into the pulsating door. Under the barrage of strikes coming from my father the door began to look more and more like paper and less like a barricade. Tears fell from my eyes and off my cheeks like waterfalls.

“Open up! Daddy’s home!” He said in a high pitched sing-song voice.

“Fuck off!” I screamed back. He bellowed wordless fury at my response and started clobbering the door harder.

“Open the fucking door you bitch!” He hollered. Suddenly the wood split sounding a loud crack, I screamed. The door continued to waver under the onslaught of blows. My body was convulsing from pure fright. Suddenly the hail of fists stopped. The abrupt silence made my ears ring. I slumped against the door weeping and trembling from fear and utter terror.