"I'm done with your shit!"
The sound of a large hand hitting the counter top.
"You can't keep running off with your friends while I have to stay here and babysit the mistake!"
A glass is thrown across the room and smashes to pieces against the wall, some of the smaller shards dance on the air like fairy dust, catching the light just before dropping onto my hair. This is common in my household, however not ever has it been this bad.
A gun.
A shot.
A thump.
A body lying limp on the floor.
A scream is heard and I'm not quite sure if it is coming from me or not, it must be though, there is no one else who would scream for the loss of my mother. I feel a hand covering my mouth and dragging me down the hall and into my room. I'm not aware of the fact that my father is digging his nails into my cheek, I'm still not aware when blood is filling my mouth after I have been thrown against the wall.
"This is your entire fault. I knew you were a god awful mistake from the start," My father says, looking down on me. My expression does not change and as he leaves he shouts over his shoulder. "God awful mistake!" I hear the bolt slide into place and I swallow the blood, but I don't know its blood until it's too late. I don't bother to turn on the light or do anything for that matter. All I do is sit and breathe and stare into nothingness. I feel numb. Nothing matters anymore, I've lost everything.
I was seven years old when my mother died right in front of my face… And I did nothing to save her.