Swallow

Chapter 1.33:

"I'm sorry, Momma. I didn't mean to spill it."

I apologized as I held my hand against the side of her face. It was my fault he hit her again. I made him mad. I messed up by knocking my cereal bowl over off the counter. He didn't like when I made mistakes. 

Everything I did was terrible. I was a bad boy.

I pulled my hand away to see Momma's eye. The side of her face was purple and covered in blood. She was fighting back her sobs.

Was she mad at me too?

"It's ok, bug. It was an accident. You didn't mean to do it." She softly soothed me through her blood-stained tears. Momma reached up to brush my hair back off my eyes and pulled my ear close to her mouth to whisper. "Ezra, go upstairs now and lock your door. Do not come down until I tell you to."

"You making him a little pussy boy, now?" His large, menacing shadow darkened the whole room around us. The spite in his voice was the only sound I could hear.

I kept my eyes down on the ground.  I never looked him in the eye.

There was a loud cracking sound and a crushing pressure grew in the back of my head. My body was thrown forward and my nose slammed against the ground.  I didn't make a noise. I never cried anymore when he hit me. My whole face was wet. It took a few seconds for me to realize it was just the blood gushing from my nose.

He grabbed my hair and pulled me up to my feet in front of her.

"You think money grows on trees, you little cunt? Lick it the fuck up." He shouted into my ear.

He threw me back down to the floor and smashed my head against the tile where I had spilled my breakfast. He rubbed my face in the puddle of milk. It was turning a light shade of pink as it mixed in with my blood.

"Let him go. You're hurting him." Momma clawed at his arms and legs, putting herself in danger again. I didn't want her to. I was tired of watching her get hurt because of me.

Yesterday was my sixth birthday. I was a big boy now; I could handle him.

His foot collided with her stomach with a loud thud. Momma had a horrible sound coming out of her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she reached for me and went silent.

She wasn't moving.

"You see that, you shit. That is what happens to little bitches. You want to be a bitch just like her?" His spit flew out of his mouth and covered my face as he shook me.

"N-n-no s-s-sir." I stuttered and gagged on the blood draining down the back of my throat. 

"Good. Now, go get the bitch cleaned up. I need a fucking fix." He dropped me to the floor and grabbed his keys off the counter. He rubbed his face as he stumbled out of the house and slammed the door.

I looked over at Momma. She still wasn't moving.

"Momma?" I shook her shoulder and she didn't respond. I had to wake her up. He would be back soon and he would hurt her again.

"Momma?"

I stared at the colorful cereal box in front of me, reading the back of it to distract myself from the memories I fought for years to repress. My mind was so fucked up that I couldn't even eat breakfast in peace. Just the spoonful of multicolored cereal set me off. Everything that I ever did reminded me of him.

I was overly tired and in a foul mood. My dark thoughts were making it that much worse.

It didn't help that I hadn't slept at all.