Short Story Collection- Love and Death

The Storm

I was nine.

Alone.

Scared.

What does a nine year old do when she finds herself alone in a dark closet watching her parents beat on each other in the next room? I kept watching. How would I look away from something like that?

"You're an asshole, Randy!" My mother threw her fist in my fathers mouth. I covered mine so I wouldn't scream. If I was found, I'd get the same treatment, at least that's what happened last time.

When my mother came home like this, my father always pushed me in the closet with a smile on his face and told me that everything will be okay. He would always say that he'll make it better and he'll protect me. I believed him every time.

"Why? Because I want to keep our child away from someone like you?" He yelled and wiped away the blood that had escaped his mouth and nose form the punch.

"What? You're the one treating her like a baby! She's nine years old, she doesn't need you to interfere!" She grabbed the glass vase from the side table and smashed it over the side of his neck. He wiped some of it off his shoulder and staggered until he caught his balance again. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I watched them. Wanting them to stop however, there wasn't much I could do, except watch.

"I'm over this. I'm going to meet up with Frank.  Don't wait up." She grabbed her black leather jacket and walked out the door, she left it open just a crack, but my dad sat down instead of closing it. I didn't think he cared too much about the door right now.

I burst through the closet doors and ran over to my dad in the EZ chair, he picked a few small shards of glass from his neck. I kneeled at my fathers legs and cried in his jeans, he placed his hand on my shoulder and smiled as best as he could. He had a comforting smile. When it appeared, I'd feel better no matter what was happening.

"Don't worry dear, I'm fine. I'm not going to let her anywhere near you." He rubbed the top of my head and cried with me. "Look now you're making daddy cry too." He took his hand away from my head and wiped his own tears away.

"No you're not daddy! You're not fine! Stop it!" I fisted my hands and banged them on his legs like a drum. I knew he was faking it for me, but he didn't say it. Ever.

"Hush. It's almost time for bed. Why don't you go and wash up. I'll meet you in your room, ok?" He smiled and sent me off with a little push to the back.

I watched him from behind as I walked into the bathroom. He was hurting. Because of me. It was my fault that he was like this. My mother said it a thousand times that's it's my fault everything is like this.

"I'm sorry." I whispered and turned the water on to brush my teeth. I finished, placed my tooth brush in the cup and left the bathroom to go to my bedroom.

"You're a god damn mess! Get your ass cleaned up, look at your daughter! Her hair isn't even brushed." She pulled his hair and got him out of the chair. "I married a nine year old. A worthless nine year old." She threw my dad, he lost his balance and fell in top of me. He was heavy, it was hard to breathe under him. I started to cry again, feelings of hatred burned inside me, which I found to be a rarity in a child.

He lifted his head and smiled at me, I burned it into my memory because for some reason, I felt it was going to be the last. "Daddy?"

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. Everything will work out." He stood up and waved for me to go into the bathroom, I locked the door and sat on the floor behind it. I held my hands at my chest and prayed my father would be okay when I got out.

A loud gun shot vibrated through my whole body. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I heard the doorknob wiggle above me. I curled my knees into my body and held them close, my ears rang without my hands to protect them anymore. The door started to push at the same time as the persistent doorknob wiggling. I held myself deeper, but it was impossible to get rid of the feelings of fear and despair. I felt hopeless and lost.

The wild attempts at opening the door stopped with a heavy sigh. I cracked open my eyes and decided to take a peek outside.

In that instant I felt a cold wave of everything overtake me. The blood, it was everywhere. The wall. The floor. My father. The gun next to him. Even on the bathroom door. I backed away, but I knew my father didn't want me to live like he did. In fear and not able to leave his horrible life behind; because of me.

He smiled.

He knew what was going to happen.

Run! My body moved faster than it ever had. I slipped on the blood below me, but caught myself enough to run farther. All I had on was my night dress and a pair of white ankle high socks.

I ran. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I didn't look back. Tears rolled down my face, but were pushed off my cheeks by the wind.

I didn't hear anyone after me so I slowed down to peek. I was okay. For now at least.

Before I realized it, I was at my grandparents house. My dads parents were always willing to bring me in if anything were to happen. No matter what. They were always warm and would let me do things I wasn't allowed at home. My mother's on the other hand, were more willing to watch what was happening than anything else.

I wasn't able to bring myself to knock on the door. I fell to my knees and screamed, my eyes felt like they were on fire as the salt water rolled down. "Daddy! Daddy no!" I clawed at my cheeks as the tears fell heavy against my moistened face.

The green door burst open and the old couple came running out. They both grabbed me and asked what happened, but I couldn't answer. I just kept screaming and letting the tears fall down my face. Images of what I saw skated by the darkness my closed eyes made. Tears fell harder and harder, my heart was racing, and my my body shook like a volcano about to release its red beauty.

"Daddy! Daddy's dead, Nana!" I managed to scream between my fierce cries. My grandparents stared at me, but didn't take their arms from around my quivering body until I wasn't at war with my emotions and memories.

I didn't think they believed me at first though. Their reactions said it all.

My nana carried me into her house and sat me on her lap while my pop got me a warm hot chocolate. I took one sip of the hot chocolate and rested my head on my nana's chest, her beating heart was a comfort to me.

It took hours before I had calmed enough to tell them what happened. Their expressions changed after I explained the situation, I felt relief. They called the police and the ambulance, both arrived at my house in ten minutes. My mother was arrested and my father was pronounced dead at the scene.

From then on, I kept the memory of my father's smile alive in my mind and heart, waiting for the day we are reunited.