And Then There Was Nothing. {discontinued}

4% (call the cops)

Six years ago, I was scared to do anything wrong. After all, I was only eleven. Afraid to do bad on a test, go to bed late, stay out too long, not finish my plate, be late for school, wear the wrong dress, not be like the rest, and fail to impress. So of course, whenever I hadn't heard my mom's scream that night I burnt my hand on the candle, I freaked out. I felt so extremely awful for not helping her. She was hurt badly, from falling off a tree. But that's not what I thought. She had never been the same since my father became abusive. The park was a place where she was able to lose her self, a place that made her feel "special". The one tree that she fell out of was her tree. She had planted it many, many years ago with my dad. They had even carved their initials into the tree and made a heart and it. I knew she didn't fall out of the tree, it was quite obvious that she jumped.... And that hurt the most.

So what I did was cry even harder, and I ran. I ran until I found the closest house. My hand shook so hard when I knocked on the door; the lady let me in immediately. She forced me to calm down. And when I did, I used their telephone to call the cops. It was a horrible, horrible mistake. Well, it was good that they helped my mom, but it wasn't good for me. Because when the cops and ambulance came, what I earned from my dad was a hard smack on the face.