The Secrets of Confessions ✔️

Chapter 23: Sore

I don't know why, but that night decides to be the day in which the memory of the murder case comes flooding back to me like someone unleashing a dam against me in my dreams. It's encasing me on every side with the sounds, feelings, and sights of which I don't want to remember.

The worried look she had on her face as she peered out the window to see the person whom she never wanted to see, as I just sat there, playing with my toys, completely oblivious as to what was happening. The look morphed into something more terrified when she knelt down to me and told me exactly what to do.

The directions that she spoke as she was carrying me to the kitchen to place me under the cabinet were simple; no matter what, don't come out until someone comes to get you. Simple as that, because she knew that the neighbors would have heard most of this and would have called the police when they saw what was in front of them.

She opened the cabinet, placed me inside, and closed it, and I sat there, waiting. It was like a cow waiting for its slaughter, accepting its fate that it was going to eventually die. The cabinet was dark, and without answers. It killed me a little bit to know that I didn't know what was happening to my mom.

I had no power to help her, and it felt like someone was kicking me in the face with that information. I sat there, with my knees pressed up to my chest, waiting for her to come and get me. But, I knew this was far from reality. The reality was that the worst was about to come.

Yelling. Lots of yelling. It was so evident, but unfortunately, unintelligible. It just sounded like people yelling while they had a rag shoved down their throat. It was all a bunch of murmurs to my 5 year old ears.

Two high pitched voices were basically having a verbal fencing match. But, the anger in the voices was so evident. It was like someone was holding up a sign that said, "These people are angry. Don't intervene unless you want to obtain a one way pass to heaven."

Then, everything happened in a flash. A drawer opened, the sound of metal clanked against each other, and then, one of the worst things happened. A scream ripped through the air. A high pitched, agonizing, and terrified scream pierced through my ears. The sound of pure pain and havoc bled through my mom's voice, until the last thing that I heard was a little whimper.

It had the sounds of giving up and hopelessness wrapped around it, which was the kickstarter for the tears to start rolling down my face. My breath became heavy and ragged, as the burning desire inside my chest made me want to get out of the cabinet and go help her.

But, her orders were ringing in my head like church bells. No matter what, don't get out of the cabinet until someone comes to get you. I stayed in that cabinet, with silence engulfed around me, as the tears continued to roll down my face.

The recent memory of her screams had carved its way into my brain permanently, to never be forgotten until I'm old and my memory is damaged. All I could do was wait and hope that someone was to come quickly and save my mom, even though the truth was about to hit me in the face with a powerful punch.

Time seemed to pass at a rate slower than leaking water. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like an hour. My fingers were crossed, and I was hoping that someone had come in and decided to help my mom. The silence was enough for someone to drop a hair on the ground, and I'd be able to hear it.

This silence was drowned out by the sound of blaring sirens filling the air. Sirens, doors opening, and footsteps following everywhere around the cabinet. Then, after a few more minutes, another scream rang throughout the air. This time, it was a different kind. It was one that was filled with heart wrenching agony, unlike physical pain agony. It was the sound of someone's heart being shattered into a hundred pieces. That scream was infused with heavy, heartfelt sobs.