"Mommy, what's wrong with daddy?" I remember asking, wrapped in mom's soft, warm arms. "Why is he so mad?"
Sounds of things braking and swearing emanated from downstairs. All you could hear was phrases like "fucking house" and "damned idiots" and "I didn't mean to"
"I don't know Linda" she had replied. "But we're safe. He won't hit us. Only the house."
"Why doesn't he stop?" I asked. "The house did not do anything wrong."
"Because he has been drinking. And when you drink, you don't remember things like that."
"I drink too!" I had said, thinking mom had meant drinking as in water or juice. I was too young to understand. "I don't forget!"
"Not that kind of drinking, silly!" mom had said, ruffling my hair. "Drinking alcohol."
"What's "al-ko-hall?"" I had asked.
"Nasty ickies. It takes control of you and makes you do mean things."
"Then why would daddy drink it?" I asked"Because it also makes you feel good."
"Why would daddy need ickies for that? Being with you makes me feel good"
"Cause daddy was at war. And war is scary. Daddy got really scared. Alcohol makes him feel less scared."
"I don't need nasty ickies!" I had proclaimed. "I can't be scared when you're here to protect me!"
"That's good, sweetheart." Mommy had said, and hugged me close while the main floor of the house was being torn apart. "I know"
YOU ARE READING
Happy Ending
Short StoryI wrote this story at about 4 in the morning and am going to upload it in parts. **Disclaimer** this story is purely a work of fiction. any resemblance to any individuals, dead or alive, is purely coincidental. some harsh language is involved
