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Begind Closed Doors

15:26 Mar 16 2007
Times Read: 763


I remember it was cold outside… I stood there, staring out the porch door window trying to block out all the screaming in the back round. What will happen now? Is this just another fight? It has to be. It’s just like all the other times. Everything will be fine.



CRASH! BREAK! SMASH! I cringe each time as another thing is thrown and broken. I fall to the floor and cover my ears. Against my will, I listen to each and every harsh act of hate. They love each other. It will be okay.



I hear my father throw the chair across the room as he screams “WHAT ARE YOUR DOING BEHIND HERE?! GET OUT!” I look at the living room doorway only to see my brother slide into it. He hurdles all the broken glass that is scattered across the floor. He runs past me and down into the basement as if the screams had scorched his skin. Quick! Hide!



I run into the kitchen and hide behind the ugly plastic chair just as they enter the room. Their screams were so loud and violent that I wonder if they can even understand themselves. I try so hard not to cry. Crying is for babies. There is nothing to cry about. Everything will be fine.



My mother is yelling at my father and pointing to the door. My father is yelling at my mother and trying to hold back his tears. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see my father’s pain. Then all of a sudden it is quiet. There, it’s over. Everything is just fine. I open my eyes hoping to see my parents hugging each other. But they are still just standing there.



I see my father turn away from my mother. With his head down like a sad pup, he walks towards the door. I hear the door open slowly and then there is a brief silence, it closes gently. I look at my mother who has a tear stained face. She turns around to walk into her bedroom. The door closes gently.



As fast as I can, I run to the door and look for my father. I see him pulling out of the drive way. I run outside screaming, “DON’T GO DADDY!” but he couldn’t hear me over the loud growl of the engine. I watch him drive all the way down the deserted country road. I keep wishing that he will stop and turn around. I keep wishing he will come back to me. He drives down the long road and I see him come to the stop sign that turns onto the highway. Now is the moment of truth…He has to turn around. He loves me. He WILL turn around…And just like that, I see he turns right, onto the highway. I watch the car disappear.



I continue to stand there, in the torn up gravel driveway. My eyes burning with the tears they give birth too. I look down at my feet and see one of my father’s work gloves. I kneel down and pick it up. I slowly bring it to my nose and take in the scent of my father. It smelled of gasoline, dirt, and metal. The scent I always smelled on him when he gave me hugs. The smell I would remember him by. He’s not coming back…



Alone outside I stand, as I feel the cold from the winds kiss my heart.



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