Psycho

Mommy

Growing up in a home with a psychopathic killer for a father is hard. Hearing the screams of innocent people, and even the screams of our own mother when our father killed her 10 years ago is extremely traumatizing. So traumatizing that my brother and I are too scared to tell anyone. I've gotten used to this though, only because I've lived with this for 15 years. The death of my mother was hard, but I got through it. Only because I had to take care of my 11 year old brother Asher. He was 1 at the time of her murder.

          I remember that night my father and mother were fighting. My father was drunk and he started beating her. My mother was able to get to me before it got worse.

          "Evie, honey, take Asher and go to your room and stay there."

          "Mommy, what's wrong"

          "Everything will be okay sweetie... Mommy loves you"

          I could see her eyes fill up with tears as they fell down her cheek one by one. I told her I loved her and ran and got Asher from his crib. I took him to my room and hid in my closet. I stayed there holding him as I heard him beat her more and more. I heard her screams, telling him to stop... but he wouldn't. I remember Asher crying and me trying to calm him down.

Please stop, don't do this! We have children!

          Those were the last words I heard from her until I heard a big bang. Then everything went silent. I wasn't sure what happened, but for some reason I knew that I wasn't going to see her anymore. Poor Asher had no idea what was going on.

          I heard footsteps and then my bedroom door opened. The closet door opened, and there I saw my father, covered in red, not a single expression on his face.

          "Get up, it's time to go to bed"

          "Where's mommy? What Happened?"

          "Mommy's gone"

He walked out of my room and left me alone to tend to Asher. Tears filled my eyes.

I was five.

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