Broken

Prologue

With her back to the door, my 7 year old self listened to the booming sounds of my parents' argument. All I could hear was the family at war. Screams of fury reverberated around our petite apartment and echoed in my head. Meanwhile, my 'fight or flight' instincts seemed to have crashed. I was unable to move. Despite Luke telling me to interfere, I remained frozen behind the oak door.

    Making my body move involuntarily, a roar of uncontrollable fury erupted from the bedroom. My abrupt movement caused me to stumble and fall over. Before gazing up, I mentally prepared myself for my parents' panicked attempts to find out if I was alright. Once ready, I tilted my head up.

    Crash! At that very moment, a green flash flew straight at my mother's raised arms. The flash was followed by another and another, making a crimson puddle appear on our wooden floor. Trying to distract myself from the horrific image, I pictured the blood as something nicer. The green glass shards became clumps of seaweed and the red liquid turned into a lake.

   Snapping me back into reality, my mother let out a screech of agony. It wasn't like those she made when she accidently cut herself with a kitchen knife or when she burned her hand on the oven; it was far worse. Terrified and worried for my mother, I turned my head to the left and made eye contact with the worst sight in my life...

   As my eyes focussed on the waterfall of blood that cascaded down my mother's neck, time itself seemed to freeze. It was as if God himself wanted to increase my suffering. Adding to my pain, the frozen imagine burrowed itself into my mind. Every single detail burned a mark into my brain: from the ghostly-pale hands of my mother shooting up to her neck, to the floor that was painted with my mother's blood. Something that once made her alive was going to kill me inside...

   Making my eyes swell up with crystal tears, her hands limply fell to her sides and allowed me to see the abyss of her wound. Every breath I took tore me apart, because I knew that my mother no longer possessed the privilege of breathing. If only I had entered earlier...If only I listened to Luke. If only, if only, if only!

   I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I am a failure! If I had just turned the handle and burst into the room earlier, you would've been fine! I am so sorry, mother...I am-...Sorry...