I
open my white door and walk inside. My aunt comes running toward
me
like
a race horse. She is wearing her red and white polka dot shirt and a
pair
of
black jeans under her baking apron.

”I
was very, extremely worried about you because you never came home
from
school!
I called you on your cell, then I called the school to see if you
had
detention
but they said you left," she stops for a breath and keeps on
going,
”Where
were you? Why didn't you call? Why are you so late? What happened?
Are
you
okay? Oh dear I need a paper bag now.”

”I
just...got held up in traffic, that's all.” I lie. My aunt knows
of
my...secret
but she gets worried when I speak of it. She thinks my secret
or
problem
started when my mom died. But I had this since I was born. She says
it's
either
because my mom died or because my father is in jail. My aunt
and
therapist
say that I need to talk more about it so if the subject ever comes
up
in
a personal conversation I should try and talk about it. So here
goes.

I
was 7 years old. I was walking on Private Drive after school, like
I
always
used to do on a bright and sunny day. I remember the tall ever
greens
that
pass me by slowly as I walk. My mother waits for me outside of the
house,
while
she walks me to the front door. My father came home, shortly after
I
myself
arrived home, exactly on January 7th,2007. As I see his large
muscles, strong, fit body
stride
into the kitchen with pride, while I am sitting at the kitchen table
finishing my noodle soup.
He
then looked at my mother washing the dishes, then to my 11 year old
sister with love
and
then he looked down at me with disgust. My heart was filled with joy,
from
that
day of school, flushed out of like a kitchen sink. My sister always
told me
to
ignore it and get used to it. I tried to but he was my father and to
know
that
I disappointed him was heart-aching. I asked to be excused from the
table
after
my father sat down. My mother turned around and opened her mouth
until; my
father
flew out of his chair, standing high and mighty over me like a king.
His
face
with the biggest frown, opened his mouth and yelled out from the top
of
his
lungs.

”You
did not finish all your soup! You are never allowed to leave
this
table!
Leave this room without eating everything and putting it in the sink!
Now
you
have to wait for me and everyone else to finish eating and you will
do the
dishes
tonight!”

”Martha
stop doing the dishes, your daughter will take care of that
today,
and tomorrow, and for this whole week!” He yelled toward my mother
with
an
over powering tone.

"You
can also do the laundry and clean this whole house from top
to
bottom!
Do you understand me you little birdbrain or is it too much for
your
tiny,
stupid, little brain!" He yells toward me while slapping me real
hard with
his
right hand. My mother, sister, and I knew then and there that he was
drunk.
The
part of him yelling was nothing unusual but the over punishment was
usually
only
toward me and only when he was drunk. My mother then screamed toward
my
father,
“Bob! Stop right now!” My sister and I looked at each other
knowing that, that was a
big
mistake knowing my dad was drunk. He slapped her and kept hurting
her, and hitting her
in
front of me and my sister. My sister then, moving fast, grabbed my
arm and
led
me out through the door quickly. She was dragging me up the stairs,
down the dark empty
hall,
and into her room.

”Stay
in here,” She whispered. Then she turned off the lights and I
just
looked
at her while I was crying silently. Tears flowing down my pink cheek
like
Niagara
Falls. She then sat next to me behind her bed in the dark. We heard
the
noise
of flesh slapping flesh. Then I heard a loud scream, and there were
no
more
sounds emerging from the kitchen. My sister picked up her cell and
dialed
911.
I went out of her room and walked down the stairs to see what was
going on.
My
mother was lying motionless on the ground in front of me with my
father
breathing
heavily over her. He looked up to look at me and grabbed me tightly,
I
scream.
He started slapping me and choking me and throwing me to the ground.
In
exactly
9 minutes the police came. As the police officers where running into
my
house
through the front door, the edges of my eyes were being filled
with
blackness
and emptiness and it was closing in on me. Then all went black.
I
neither
saw nor heard anything. The next thing I remember was waking up in
a
hospital
bed. That’s where I saw my sister sleeping in the light green
chair
next
to my bed and my aunt talking to the doctor with tears in her eyes.
And
that
is the story, but it's not my secret. And it didn't stop after
that
day...it
kept going.