Survival

"SMASH," I instantly jolt awake from a night of deep sleep to the sound of glass dishes smashing against the wall. "SLAM," goes the bedroom door as mother flings it open as hard as she can. "What have I told you about stacking the dishes like that!" as she grabs me by the arm so tight it damn near leaves a bruise while dragging me to the kitchen. "This is fucking unacceptable." She screams in my face as spit flies out her mouth. I quickly run and get the broom to sweep up her mess, afraid of knowing what would happen next. "SMACK," her hand hits my back so hard it left and big red mark. I try my hardest to please her so that maybe she would be happy one day and I wouldn't get beat, but it is never enough.

I heard the front door slam shut. I quickly ran to the kitchen to check the time, hoping it was time for my mother to leave for work. Thankfully, she left for work. I was free from her for at least four hours. I finished cleaning up her mess so that hopefully, she would be in a better mood when she comes home. Once I was finished cleaning, I went back up to my bedroom, where I had this painting of this elegant ship, sailing far away into the horizon, hanging above my bed. I would lay there imagining that I was on that ship sailing from all that chaos and fear in this house. I could imagine the warm sun beaming against my cheek, listening to the sound of the waves hitting the side of the boat, feeling the wind flow through my hair. Most of all, what I would imagine was that I was free from my mother. Free from the beatings and the verbal abuse. Free to be me without fear in my heart every day. That is what I would lay there dreaming about every day when she would leave. All I could think about was how far I wished I could be from this hell hole.

It was just a matter of time before mother would be getting home from work. So, I spent a little more time doodling in my notebook about my little fantasy. Before, I went back downstairs to clean up the house some more. I cleaned the entire kitchen. I scrubbed the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned off the table. Before, I moved on to clean the rest of the house. I was not fast enough when I heard the sound of her car pulling into the driveway. Frantically trying to finish, she walks through the door to see me standing a few feet in front of her. She had a terrible day at work, which she then took out on me. She grabbed me up, shoved me up the attic stairs, and told me that she could not stand to look at my face. As she closed and locked the attic door behind her when she walked out.

I started looking through a few of the boxes that are in piles all around me. I found an old flashlight that still worked. I found a picture of my father, who had passed away when I was just a baby. Then, I found some old blankets that were folded up in a box by the far wall. I made myself a pallet on the floor, I put the flashlight up by my head shining up at the ceiling, and placed my dad's against my heart to make the best out of a horrible situation. I laid there imagining being on a ship sailing far, far away from this place.