It was pitch black, the sounds of heavy breathing clouded the eary silence. My eyes shut ever so tightly as the drunken yells echoed through the hallway, with every step closer we flinched. My sisters arms wrapped around me as tears streamed down her face, the frantic whispers about how everything is fine always made matters worse. Our mother, peaking through the cracks of the closet doors, we couldn't run away this time. We were prey trapped in a corner waiting to be devoured, yet I didn't shed a tear my small undeveloped eyes just shut in terror, I was silent.
My shaking mother watched as he drew ever closer, finally finding us. His threats terrorized her, by some since of motherly duty she felt the need to protect us. I often think back about what would've happened it she had stayed in the closet. But nevertheless she went, their fighting pierced through the thick wooden doors, their shadows haunting as they moved in anger. My sister pulling me in tighter, she did her best to sing a little nursery song, but through the tears it was shaken and muttered.
"Rock a by baby in the tree tops."
The yelling continued, getting louder with every sentence.
"When the wind blows the cradle will rock."
The heated fighting escalated "Have you seen her, she has wings Barbra she's an animal she needs to be put down like one." Followed my my mother "No Daniel! She's still our daughter."
"When the bow breaks the cradle will fall."
The sound of a gun cocking rang through our ears.
"And down will come baby cradle and all."
Bang. One shot shattered our ears, my mothers body hitting the floor made a loud thud followed by our frantic crying. Bang. Another shot rang through us, followed by my father hitting the floor. My sister sat me aside, she said to stay put and keep my head down. I don't know how bad it was out there but her scream was enough to know the extent.
She took me in her arms, covering my eyes. We exited the closet, she thought I couldn't see through the cracks in her fingers. She was wrong. My father and mother lay bloodied on the floor, ones last thoughts of fear, the other remorse, I could sense that much but who's thoughts, well that was not clear.
I've always blamed myself for their deaths, it was me after all that made them fight. Why couldn't I just be normal like my sister, why could I be? I had done nothing wrong, I was a baby, what did I do to deserve this. I would always have those thoughts lingering in my mind, but none more than when we were in the orphanage.
