The Past.

57 1 1
                                    

The sound of your truck rings through my ears as you pull up to the house.

I dart.

Run up the stairs and into my closest trying to become invisible.

I listen for the turning of your key as the door unlocks.

Goosebumps cover my body.

I sit.

I wait.

The sound of your boots coming up the stairs makes me start to shake.

I clasp my hand over my mouth so I don't make a sound.

My breathing hard and uncontrolled.

Your steps are getting louder.

You pause.

I stop breathing.

I squeeze my eyes together tight.

Maybe if I can't see you, you can't see me.

I hear my bed room door open.

It creeks slowly.

I pray that today will be a good day.

One where you are happy.

Silence.

Has he left?

My small hands reach up to the doorknob of my closet.

Slowly opening the door to look out.

My eyes grow wide as I find you sitting on my bed.

I fell so stupid.

How could I have thought you'd leave?

It's to late now, I have been discovered.

And by the smirk on your face, I know today will not be good.

"Father?"

It's only the beginning.

PoemsWhere stories live. Discover now