"Melody, baby, you have to be quiet," my mom whispered as we hid in the bathroom.
Truth be told, that was the fifth noise I'd made.
Granted, I was scared for my life.
Not long ago, two armed men broke into our home demanding money from my father. After forcing and hurting him, we ran upstairs to the bathroom, hoping to hide — to be spared from a grim fate.
As my seven-year-old mind tried to calm itself, the yelling from downstairs grew louder.
Nervously, I stepped backward, bumping into the shower. A yelp escaped me as my nerves snapped.
Bottles and products tumbled into the tub, making a loud, hollow thump as they landed.
"What was that?" one of the men shouted.
"Is someone else here?" the other barked.
"Shit, Melody, shhh!" my sister hissed, tears swelling in her eyes as she looked at me, pleading.
We weren't allowed to say bad words — normally, that would've earned her a lecture from Mom.
But this wasn't a normal day. Not even close.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs. My stomach dropped. My breath caught in my throat.
"Come," my mother said, her voice low but firm.
I couldn't move. My body felt weightless, my legs frozen as if the floor had swallowed me whole.
Mom rushed to me, realizing we had little time.
The footsteps grew closer — rounding the corner — until they stopped at the bathroom door.
My father was with them.
Mom lifted me quickly and hid me in the closet behind a stack of bins. Then she turned to my sister, but she was too tall now to fit.
"Tub. Now," Mom ordered.
As the man began kicking at the door, I peered through a small crack.
I saw my mother preparing herself for the worst.
We locked eyes.
Her lips trembled as she whispered the last words I'd ever hear from her:
"I love you, my girls."
The door gave out. Without hesitation, the man fired.
The bullet struck her chest, and she collapsed.
They left her body behind like she was nothing and went toward my father's office.
My sister thought the coast was clear. She climbed out of the tub and fell to her knees beside Mom, sobbing.
"All you had to do was shut up and shhh," she said, her voice trembling.
She wasn't looking at me, but I knew she meant it for me.
My heart ached. My breathing quickened. I wanted to run to them — to fix it — but I couldn't. I was frozen under the weight of cleaning supplies, bathroom clutter, and guilt.
Then I heard the footsteps again.
The man came back into the bathroom and found my sister crying over our mother.
He hit her with the butt of his gun and aimed.
Before he could fire, my father screamed — desperate — and the man shot near her instead.
The fragments hit my sister, knocking her unconscious. Presumably dead.
My father dropped to his knees.
"Is there anyone else here?" the man demanded.
"No... there's no one else," my father whispered, broken and shaking.
Two more shots.
And then silence.
When the front door slammed shut, I somehow found the strength to crawl out from the closet.
I dragged myself to my father. His eyes were half-open, glazed with pain.
"Wait, Daddy, please don't go," I cried, cradling his head in my lap — just like story time at night.
He looked at me and smiled faintly through the agony.
"Oh, princess," he whispered, "Daddy will see you one day. Until then, I'll always be right here with you."
He pointed a trembling finger at my heart.
With effort, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lucky ring. Placing it in my palm, he kissed my hand and closed my fingers around it.
"Now go, baby girl. Hide."
"Daddy, no, please don't leave yet!" I sobbed.
"Daddy has to go, baby girl. I love you, princess... I'll always love you."
And with that, his head fell still.
"No... no, please, come back! I'll be quiet, I promise!" I begged, shaking their lifeless bodies.
But no one answered.
The pain was unbearable. I lay on the cold bathroom floor, wishing I could go with them.
My eyes drifted shut.
Hours later...
"Looks like four dead bodies," a woman's voice said.
I opened my eyes and saw a Black woman talking into a black phone with a long antenna.
"Can you help my daddy?" I asked weakly.
She turned around, startled.
"Actually... three dead bodies and one little girl," she said softly.
As she walked closer to check me, I saw the gun on her hip and screamed.
"Please, don't shoot me too! I'll be quiet, I promise!"
She froze, then gently lifted me into her arms.
"No, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm here to help," she whispered.
As she carried me out of the bathroom, I waved goodbye to my family.
In the living room, she handed me to my older brother, Khalil. He and Trey had just arrived home.
"Hey baby... where's Dad?" Khalil asked, eyes widening at my blood-stained clothes.
They didn't need an answer. They just hugged me tight and carried me to the car.
Trey asked questions, but I couldn't speak. I only nodded or stared blankly.
I was empty — hollow — drowning in guilt.
I'd always been the chatty one, the clumsy one, the noise maker. It was a joke before.
But now... it wasn't funny.
"What happened, Mel?" Trey asked quietly, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
I looked at him, tears spilling down my cheeks. The only words that made sense came out:
"If only I was quiet."
He turned back toward the road, tears glistening in his own eyes.
"It ain't your fault, baby girl," he said softly. "It ain't your fault."
But it was.
It was all my fault.
Because I couldn't be quiet for five minutes.
They're gone.
Mommy.
Daddy.
My sister.
All gone.
I looked out the window at the fading sky, whispering a silent promise to the heavens:
I'll be quiet. I promise to shhh.
——-💛
"shhh"
thoughts 🥺
✨part 2 of this book is now out you can find it on my page check it outt✨
I'm slowly updating this story so beware of tons of miss spelling and errors. please beware. thank you.
*This part has been updated and edited *
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"shhh"
Romanceone horrible night in melody's life changed everything. she lost her father, her mother and her older sister. all she had left was her two brothers. life got ruff and she chose to go quite and shut everyone out. but what happens when a boy comes al...
