“You bitch!” The sound of a loud slap echoes through the walls upstairs. Their thudding grows louder, and I get angrier. I try todistract myself by staring at the poster on my wall that says: “We want you!” A man in a funny hat is pointing straight at me.
One day, I’m going to go far away from here and never come back. I want to be in the military—a soldier or SEAL who travels the world.
I hold my knees to my chest, fighting the tears that want to come out. I rock back and forth on my bed and pray that it stops soon. I just wanted to hug my mother this morning since I couldn’t get her a gift. The sting in my throat grows, but I swallow the dread back down. I can’t cry. Father says crying makes you weak, so I hold it in like I always do.
I sleep in the basement. He created a room down here and built it for me before I was born—before his alcohol addiction started. He wasn’t always bad.
“Stop it! Stop!” she squeals, and he roars back at her with more sounds of slaps and thudding.
I’ve tried to break up their fights multiple times, but it always results in me getting hurt. Mother made me promise to hide every time they fought, so I wouldn’t hear. I’m not sure where I can hide since he won’t let me leave the house, and I’m already the farthest away from them that I can be.
So I bring my hands to my ears and close my eyes.
Suddenly, the door to my room crashes open.
It’s Mama.
She’s bleeding everywhere.
“Gavin, honey, don’t scream. Don’t talk, or he’ll find you, baby. Hide underneath your bed, right now!” She hugs me tight to her body and presses her lips to the top of my head.
Little did I know that would be the last time I hugged her.
“Mama, what’s going on?” I reach out and brush the red out of her black hair.
My mother’s blue eyes stay on me. Tears fill the brim of her lashes and profusely leak down her weary face.She doesn’t look the same anymore. She’s terrified for her life, and I don’t know what to do to help.
“You know hide and seek, right, baby?” She nods frantically. “Hide right now, and get under the bed.”
My father continues to kick and bang against the door. The sound of the wood chipping sends more hot tears streaming from me and onto the wooden floor.
“Now!” Mama demands.
I scurry onto the floor and crawl under my twin bed that’s pressed up against the walls. I’m barefoot, shaking in my red Christmas pajamas.
“Let me in! There’s nowhere you can go!” my dad’s raspy voice booms with a darkness I’ve never heard before. It’s my dad, but not him at the same time.
“M-mama, please. I’m scared. Let me go with you!” I plead, but she shakes her head. “Please let me go with you, Mama.”
“Promise me, Gavin. Promise me right now, you’re going to stay here and not say one word, you hear me? You can’t come with me. Be strong, okay? And listen to me.”
I nod, letting the tears fall down my face because I can’t hold in this unfathomable pain anymore.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, but after this, we’re leaving and never coming back.” She forces a weak smile as she threads her bloody fingers through my hair.
“M-mama!”
“Promise me right now?”
She can’t leave me. She can’t.
“I promise,” I say with a trembling whisper.
“Promise what?”
“I won’t come out.”
“And?”
