The Foster

17

Love. Silly word for a thing so big. I've never been in love before but I've seen it, before mom started hitting me-dad was there. And god did she love him. dad was a handsome man- taller than mom with jet black hair and a jawline so sharp you could cut your finger.

I remember every night when he came home from a game her eyes would light up and her smile that hadn't seen the sun all day would show and he would come to us, ruffling my short brown hair and kissing moms cheek she would ask how his day was and he would always answer with showing her a new bruise from a puck or stick.

(Dad was in the NHL)

she would kiss wherever it was and then he would smile and say "little better now" and I would giggle.

Mom was beautiful. She had long blonde hair and brown eyes with red lips. He loved her too. Up until that one night.

It started like any other with mom making dinner and worrying when dad would finally be home.

But when he walked in he seemed more angry than usual and his forehead was bleeding.

Mom rushed over to him and began to reach to it, he grabbed her wrist "Kathryn not now" he growled at her she yanked her wrist back from him and widened her eyes in shock.

"Just let me help you"

"I don't need your help" he snapped back

"But your hurt" she whined

"Your a woman- you couldn't help me if you tried" I looked up from my coloring book and covered my mouth.

She shoved him in disgust and that's when it happened. I saw for the first time of many..
my dad slap my mom.

She fell to the tile floor and held her red face. He stood there- the kitchen silent and the radio playing can't help falling in love by Elvis Presley. My dads favorite.

His low voice hummed from Blue Hawaii as she picked herself up and dusted her apron that was warm from slaving over the stove all day.

I slowly pushed my yellow out from the pink tacky table and stood going slowly to my room.

I hear more smacking and screams as I slowly sit on my bed.

He loved her.

He really did