freedom

chapter five

Chapter 5

glass

Rolling into the driveway, an eerie quiet greets them – too still after such an explosive morning. An ominous feeling rises in my gut as we dismount cautiously.

Suddenly Milly spots it, glinting ominously in the dim light – shattered glass strewn all over the floor. As Milly rushes inside, she notices framed photos knocked askew, telling a clear story.

"Jesus," Her brother mutters, taking it in with a dark look. Both of them knowing who was responsible for this destruction, the breaking point of another nasty fight.

Grabbing the broom, Milly starts sweeping hurriedly to remove any danger. Her brother folds his arms, scanning for signs of their parents.

Hurrying up the stairs after cleaning the broken glass, Milly's heart pounding, she pauses outside the closed bedroom door. Taking a steadying breath, she slowly pushes it open.

The scene inside being what she feared. Her mother lays passed out on the floor; empty vodka bottle spilled nearby. Clearly, she resorted to her usual maladaptive coping when this terrible fight reached it conclusion.

Milly rushes to her side, she rolls her mother over on her back gently as Milly pillows her mothers head in her lap. Her usual put-together features are pale and puffy from the toxic combination of alcohol and tears. Milly sighs sadly while smoothing back her mother's hair, familiar with this routine aftermath by now.

Milly's brother appears in the doorway, taking in the scene with grim eyes, Milly just shakes her head. Together they lift their mother's limp form into bed, tucking blankets around her slim frame. There being little else they can do but wait for the storm to pass Milly looks at her mothers broken form. Milly steels herself to go confront the other guilty party.

Milly's blood boils as she storms towards her father's study, violence and hurt ready to spill out after holding it in for so long. Slamming open the heavy oak door, Milly finds him calmly sitting at his desk as if nothing is wrong.

Rage consumes Milly as she marches up and slam both fists down, making the wooden surface shake. Her father startles, staring up with narrowed eyes as if she's the one interrupting him.

"What is wrong with you?" Milly seethes through gritted teeth. "Look what you've done – you pushed mum over the edge again with your cruelty!"

Her father rises to meet her fire with his own, lip curling in distaste. "Don't you take that tone with me, young lady this is between your mother and I."

"No, you made it about all of us the minute you started tearing this family apart!" Milly shouts, fighting the tears. "How can you be so heartless?"

For a small moment his harden features waver – the barest glimmer of remorse peeking through. But his walls slam back up as always. "Get out of my office before you regret it."

Defeated, Milly storms from the room, knowing this cycle will only continue its destructive path with no end in sight.

The adrenaline coursing through Milly meets its climax as she slams her bedroom door behind her, hyperventilating. All the rage, pain, and heartbreak from years of abuse and trauma comes boiling to the surface.

Milly punches her mirror with an anguished cry. The glass cracks into a spiderweb then shatters, fragments raining down. A stinging pain seizes her knuckles, but she welcomes the grounding sharpness.

Collapsing to her knees amid the broken pieces, she breaks down sobbing, her bloody hands gripping her hair. Hot tears stream relentlessly as guttural cries escape her raw throat. All she wants is to undo this impossible mess, to rewind the hands of time and prevent the destruction of her family.

Why did it have to end up like this? Why am I helpless to stop the chaos? Milly's mind runs frantically as she collapses on the floor, she gives in to despondent despair washing over her in waves. There is no escaping this broken legacy, it seems, no matter how far she flees its toxicity. It will haunt her forever, embedded under her skin.

The next morning Milly awakens from a fitful rest to the blaring alarm, signaling a start to another dreaded school week. Her swollen eyes and pounding head being reminders of the night before.

Glancing down, her knuckles that have started scabbing over with a heavy sigh she forces herself up and begins getting ready through the haze of exhaustion.

After swallowing some painkillers, Milly bandaged her battered hands as best she could. Avoiding her haunted gaze in the cracked mirror, Milly throws on some clothes and heads downstairs.

The floors are spotless as usual, not a trace of what transpired the night before. Her brother stands in the kitchen making some toast, a kitchen that holds both happy and horrible memories. Sliding a steaming mug her way without a word needed. They share an understanding look – there will be no speaking of the ugly secrets behind closed doors.