The song used in this story is Little Toy Guns by Carrie Underwood!
In between the coats in the closet
She held on to that heart shaped locket
Staring at a family flawless
But it ain't a pretty picture tonight
Mom and daddy just wouldn't stop it
Fighting at the drop of a faucet
Cuts through the wall catastrophic
She's caught in the crossfire
Puts her hands over her ears
Starts talking through her tears
She's saying, she's praying
She is hiding once again. Only a little girl. Only eight years old. Her hands wrapped around the picture that was standing in the hallway. Her body covered by coats and her heart beating loudly in her chest. She doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want to live through another night like this.
The family picture tightly in her hands and her eyes locked on the man in the picture. He looked happy and tall. She looked small and a tiny baby in her arms. He is dressed in army green and she is wearing a beautiful red dress. They looked happy. They looked flawless.
He hears his booming voice through all the layers of coats around her. He hears his loud and deep voice piercing through the closet door. And she hears her voice, high pitched, screaming over his. Voice over voice, trying to be the loudest. Both forgetting about the small girl hiding in the closet. Both forgetting to keep their voices down.
His temper changed. Her patience changed. Both affected by the war. He by living through it. Lying in the mud while shooting from his riffle. She with a broken heart from waiting for her husband. Praying for her husband to be alive.
The screaming becomes louder and she knows they are standing in the hallway. Both don't know that she is hiding, once again. Both forgetting to keep their voices down. They are fighting once again. Screaming, shouting and blaming the other. Screaming, shouting and hurting. Their body's aching, their heart reaching out. But their feet locked on their place.
Tears on the face of the little girl that is hiding. Tears on the face of the girl covered with coats. The picture of their happy, flawless family which she was holding tightly in her hands falling to the ground. The glass breaking but they don't hear above the screaming of their own voices. She puts her hands over her ears.
Words tumbling out of her mouth. Words like whispers. Words she don't hear. Words they can't hear. Her hands over her ears, her eyes closed. She is saying the words they taught her a long time ago. She is praying.
I wish words were like little toy guns
No sting, no hurt no one, just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
No smoke, no bullet, no kick from the trigger when you pull it
No pain, no damage done
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
Just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
She can still remember the happy time. The time before he went away. The time before she spent a long time alone with her mother. His strong, big arms lifting her off the ground. So, so high. She squealing and laughing. His deep laugh rumbling through his chest.
Her tiny hand wrapped inside of his. Her tiny hand wrapped inside of hers. She looking up and seeing the way they looked at each other. She was wishing to find a man just like her daddy when she grew up. They are lifting her up and she jumps forward. Again and again. Laughing and jumping.
Her small body in their big bed. His large and undamaged body on one side of her. His big muscled arm around her and his unshaved chin tickling her when he is rubbing it against her cheek. She is squealing and moving a little to the other side. To the side where her warm and soft mother is lying. Her hand is squeezing her knee and she sings.
She is standing in the biggest closet she has ever seen. It is the closet of her aunt Vika. Her large father has folded his legs under him and he is watching her. She is running around and touching all the stuff her aunt owns. Wishing that she can have all of this one day. And her father telling her that she can.
Sitting on the couch between her big father and her soft mother. She is completely in the movie she is watching but she noticed the way her mom and daddy looks at her. And the way their hands are tangled together at the back of the couch. And she knows that when she falls asleep the big strong arms of her father will lift her up and bring her bed.
Wish there was a white flag waving or that they were both just faking
And it was just a game they were playing like shott'em up cowboys
Leave the plastic pistols in the front yard
Throw away the score cars and just turn off all the noise
Her mind spinning. Her parents screaming. Her father's voice booming. Her mother's voice high pitched and a little hoarse. She can hear the tears in her mother's voice. She can hear the demons in her father's voice. Her mind spinning and she is picturing them.
Picturing him as the cowboys out one of his western books. Crazy cowboy hat, his long duster wrapped around his big body and a pair of cowboy boots on his feet. The guns on the belt around his hips. His sheriff star pinned on his chest.
Her mother in a long red dress. The dress she is wearing in the flawless family picture. Red lipstick and her long brown hair loose around her shoulders. She is what her father calls a damsel in distress. And she can picture it all.
The two man are grabbing her mother. Her high pitched screaming for them to let her go. And then her high pitched screaming for him. Her sheriff. She knows that he will come. He always comes for her. Saving her.
And there he comes. Riding fast on his horse. He is tall and ready to save his lady. He jumps of his horse and pulls the guns out of his belt. Both his hands filled with a gun and pointed at her attackers. Ready to save her and save the day.
Bang Bang from his guns. She is saved and leaning into his body. Her red lips in a smile and his arms wrapped around her waist. She is thanking him and telling him she will never leave him. He is telling her how much he loves her and that he will never leave her.
I wish words were like little toy guns
No sting, no hurt no one, just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
No smoke, no bullets, no kick form the trigger when you pull it
No pain, no damage done
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
Just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
Her life spread out by pictures in their family photo book. Her tiny body growing and her parents chasing her. Her daddy by her side every step she makes. Every import moment in her life. Her mother supporting her. Her mother encouraging her to become whoever she wants to be.
Their voices booming over her thoughts. She doesn't understand it. They were so happy. She saw the tears on her mother cheeks when he came home. And she saw the tears in her daddy's eyes when he was back home again.
I wish they didn't cut like a knife
I wish they didn't break you inside
I wish they didn't bang bang make you wanna run, yeah
She hears her mother's frustrated cry and the moment something hits the closet door she is hiding in. A scream escaping her and she can't stop. Can't hide herself any longer. Can't pretend she isn't there.
The door opening and revealing her tall father. A mask on his face, hiding what he is feeling. Hiding what his eyes can't. The small line his lips forms when he is angry and she stops screaming. She stops crying and blinks.
Her father crouching in front of her and his eyes soften. His mask disappearing and his arms holding out to her. Offering the comfort only a father can bring. Offering her safety in his big strong arms. And she takes it. Stumbling forward and falling in her father's embrace. Her mother long gone.
Her crying hidden in the crook of his neck. His big muscled arms lifting her up and out of the closet. Wrapping tightly around her and holding her against his big and damaged body. But even with the damaged body. He is still her father.
Her father's deep voice telling her how much he loves her. How much her mother loves her. And trying to explain in his own way why they were fighting. Telling her how sorry he is that they didn't notice her hiding in the closet once again.
His hands full of scars helping her to get ready for bed. His large hands full of scares that look like they are able to break her in two. Those large hands are helping her pull her shirt over her head. Help her to brush her teeth. And those large hands caressing her cheek.
His body bending and his lips placing a kiss on her forehead. The stubble of his unshaved chin tickling her nose. His mouth that forms the words 'I love you'. And his body that sits on the edge of her small bed until her eyes start to flutter and she can't fight the sleep anymore.
Like little toy guns
No sting, no hurt no one, just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
No smoke, no bullets, no shot from the trigger when you pull it
No pain, no damage done
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
Just a bang bang rollin' off your tongue
(I wish words were like little toy guns)
Oh like little toy guns
Her mind has drifted off to sleep. To a place where words are like little toy guns and they can't hurt you. Where the words of her mom and daddy are like the bullets of plastic toy guns.
Her father still standing in her doorway. His eyes locked on the small form that he can call his daughter. The pride and joy and one of the reason he even returned home. The other reason he came home wraps her arms around his waist.
The face of the love of his life placed against his back and leaving small kisses on his shoulders. He is turning and wrapping his big muscled arms around her shoulders. Looking down in the red lined eyes from the one he promised to never hurt.
And he bends down and places a peace offering on her lips. Something she accepts while her body molds against his. Promises leaving his lips and peace offerings leaving her lips. Somehow they are broken and somehow they are fixed. But the only way to survive is to keep together.
So they talk and forgive. They make peace and crawl in the big bed together. His big muscles arms wrapping around her soft body. His deep voice whispering in her ear and her body drifting off to sleep. He is watching the peaceful form in his arms.
His body damaged and his mind filled with pictures he doesn't want to see anymore. But when he watches the sleeping form of his wife in his arms, he knows that he has found peace. And he knows that whe she still wants to be with him he can be saved. And there will a chance for him to be fixed.