New Life

Where it All Began---Chapter One

"Xavier! Please!" Momma was down on her knees, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Daddy was standing over her with a belt, pulling back his arm to hit her again. I was peeking through their cracked door, terrified, and hatred towards Daddy burning through my veins. I wanted to cry, scream, do something, but I was paralyzed, and unable to make a sound. CRACK. the belt hit Momma again, sending her screaming to the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks. I couldn't take it anymore. I knocked myself out the trance, and ran down to the kitchen. I leaned against the refrigerator door, sobbing. Why does he have to do this? Stuck up asshole. He thinks he can just hurt Momma for no reason. Through my blurred vision, I could see a butcher knife laying on the counter, as if waiting for someone to pick it up. I knew I shouldn't... Couldn't... But I grabbed it. I wiped away my tears and quietly padded towards Momma and Daddy's room. I really wasn't planning on DOING anything to him, just scaring him, by then I saw what he was doing. And my hatred bubbled up, so much hatred, I just wanted to make him pay. Make him scream in agony. He was on Momma's back, facing the door, focused on his prey too much to notice me, his belt around Momma's neck, she was turning blue. I slipped inside the room quietly and went behind him. I raised my knife like I had seen Daddy do with his belt countless times before, and it was over so quietly, the knife imbedded in his back, it had slipped in so easily, it didn't seem real. I knew it was real. Momma grabbed the belt from around her throat and undid it, staring in horror at Daddy. "Xavier... Tanearme, what did you do??" She wailed. I was shocked. She should be thanking me for stopping him. He would have killed her. "Momma, he can't hurt you anymore. Aren't you glad?"

"Glad? GLAD?!?" She looked at me like I had grown three heads. "GET OUT. I can't believe... My own daughter... A murderer...." She pointed a shaking hand towards the door. I stood for a moment, swaying, but when I saw her reach for her cell phone to call the cops, I ran. And ran. And ran. I ran outside, where it was raining, rain that stuck to me, making me cold. I knew I was crying, but couldn't tell the years from the rain. I thought she would be happy, that she wouldn't be abused. She kicked me out. My mother kicked me out of the house. I could hear sirens screaming in my direction, and I kept running.