“Yes! No! Yes! No!” These screams come from my parent’s bed, just a few feet away…but this did not bother me, for my parents fought constantly.
Things start to get louder, and somehow mom ends up on the floor being choked by dad. I get out of my bed and jump on my parent’s bed. “Daddy, stop hurting mommy!”
“I’m going to kill you, then your daughter…” he says as he continues to squeeze her neck. Two words from that phrase had forever pained my heart; ‘your daughter’ as if I weren’t even his anymore. Mom manages to escape from his deathly grip, and grabs me and takes off running out the door. We ran up this hill…I remember it well…we hid behind some trees. I remember seeing dad drive up the hill searching for us both. Mom and I cautiously walk back to our place. She pretended that nothing happened, while I was terrified that he might come back. Mom put me back in my bed, and told me that everything was going to be fine, but I laid awake for what seemed like hours listening, waiting for him to return.
The next morning I awoke to a weird noise coming from the living room. It was mom, she was crying.
“Why do you cry mommy?” She wipes the tears away, but they still keep falling from her eyes.
“Daddy can’t come home anymore.”
”Why not mommy? Why can’t daddy come home?”
“Because daddy is with God now.” She said as she wiped the tears yet again from her swollen eyes.
“If he’s just visiting God, then he can still come back.” I said confused about the whole ordeal, of course, what four year old wouldn’t be?
“No…he can’t…he lives with God now…that’s his new home.”
“Why did he leave? Doesn’t he love us anymore?”
“It’s not that, I’ll explain it when you’re older.”
A few days have past, still not realizing why daddy doesn’t want to live with us anymore, a few family members met at our place. I didn’t understand why everyone was crying, hugging each other, and saying they’re sorry.
We left in the same vehicle, and we went to a church. I was fascinated with the decorations that covered the windows as we entered. My aunt carried me inside, and I could see this big box in from of all the seats. As we grew nearer to the box, I could hear mom start to cry again, and then a faint voice, “It’ll be alright.”
When we finally approached the big shiny box, my aunt asked me who that was in it. It looked like my daddy, but it couldn’t have been. His body didn’t move and his lips seems as though they were glued shut. He seemed so peaceful…so calm.
“Daddy, wake up…why won’t he wake up auntie?”