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Barricading and clamouring

Mayara pov

Slammed door. A heavy boot and a sequential echo on the dusty walls.

"Fernanda" I hear him screech.

His voice blankets the air and seeps into my thoughts.

I find Romulo buried in his studies and break into the pool of light manufactured by his lamp, with tears collecting at my feet.

He discards his books and we trace back to his bed unfolding the cover and barricading ourselves in the plush duvet.

His chin rests on my scalp and he muffles my quiet sobs by stroking my hair.

"Maya you're safe, daddy's just tired" he would repeat, for the fifth time this week. I couldn't recall a day when he wasn't 'tired'.

"He's just tired" he said, absently. the words didn't meet his eyes and he grimaced as we heard faint screams escaping my mothers lips and the further smashing of plates and assorted glassware.

Romulo's chest rose in time with my heart beat and I felt his clammy hands curl around me. He held me tighter to him and began humming, though the tune was crippled by his fear and sounded sharp and strained.

Smashed glass. Tears. Threats. Cursing.

"Romulo he's coming" I whispered.

We both sensed his presence before any footsteps could be ascertained.
Then they sounded, like bullets from a gun. Each significantly louder and more aggressive than the last.

Slammed door. Panting. The smell of alcohol.

"Be a man" he yelled, but Romulo shook his head insistently.

"Are you not my son? I said be a man"

"I won't fight you" he stated, indignant.

Negotiation wasn't plausible, neither was safety. Romulo wrapped me in the duvet and tucked me out of reach.

He rose from the mattress, his frame stretching from wall to wall.

The sting of spirits wafted toward my lungs and I chocked for air.

"Maya, you watch your brother, you watch him crumble" he said, with a glint in his eye.

Vomit rose in my throat and I feared it would surface if I was subjected to view their ordeal, powerless to stop it.

He lunged at Romulo and spread his arms wide.

Being slimmer, taller and more agile my brother dodged the initial strike and caught my father's fist in his own, pushing him into the wall.

I gasped and covered my eyes.

He lost his balance and plummeted to the wooden floor.

Romulo surrounded him and removed the empty bottle that was sewn to his skin.

He was unaware and lay, motionless, defeated.

It didn't take much to knock out my father, but I knew Romulo was eaten away by his guilt.

We ran to aid my mother and removed the pieces of glass that framed her face.

The floor began to dissolve beneath me and Romulo and my mother began to drift away from me as if they were a raft on a fast flowing river.

I called out to them and threw myself into the waves, clamouring and failing to tame the water that quelled around me.

Rocks flew in all directions and I became aware of an unsteady banging on the right side of my head.

I dived deeper.

~

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