A New Day

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Momma asked me to stay home from school the day after my punishment. She said people would ask questions and she knew I didn't want to get her in trouble. She told me because I was at home, I'd have plenty of time to clean the whole house until it shined. I didn't think it was fair that the twins made the mess and I had to clean up for them, but I'd never call attention to that.

My body protested as I walked upstairs to prepare breakfast for my brother and sister, but I didn't let myself think of anything other than the tasks that needed to be completed. I wasn't going to risk letting my mother see me in pain, even though my stumpy legs couldn't hide the limp that had taken over my gait. I missed Noah and I knew there was no way a few hits would keep me from him. I just had to be more careful when I was with him. None of this was Noah's fault. He was my best friend and I wasn't going to lose him. I would just find a way to tell him to help me be more careful.

I was embarrassed I had to miss the second day of second grade, but I was kind of happy for it at the same time. My body screamed at me for moving around. Every movement sent pain riveting throughout me, but I knew Momma would just make it worse if I didn't do the work she told me to do. I set to work, cleaning each part of the house until it practically shined, just like Momma wanted.

After my chores had been completed, I leaned against the couch, my body aching and begging me to stop. I had spent the entire day cleaning, not pausing when the twins walked in. They made messes in almost every room they entered, but I just retraced my steps and cleaned up after them. That's what Momma expected.

It was already five o'clock when I began dinner. I decided to cook beef stir fry and followed the cookbook exactly. I set the food on our best plates and put them on the table, waiting for Momma to walk in the door. I even wiped off the sides of the plate with a damp paper towel like I had seen on the TV when Momma didn't know I was peeking to clean off any stray sauce that marred the design on the platter. I prayed she'd be proud and wouldn't find anything to be angry about.

The house smelled of orange scented cleaning supplies and bleach. I had worked non-stop, scrubbing, organizing, and cleaning and I was proud of the end result. When Momma walked in, she sighed and moved to the kitchen, sitting down to dinner and waiting on the twins, signaling me to hurry up and get them.

I moved to the hallway and knocked on the twin's doors, silently announcing the arrival of dinner and their mother. They barreled past me, as Gabriella elbowed my stomach, making me fall to the ground. A grunt of pain escaped my lips, but I schooled my features while returning to the kitchen.

I found myself grateful again for staying home for the day. My body was in no shape to be attending school without bringing attention to the pain I couldn't hide. The bruises I had would possibly take weeks to fade, but at least I'd be able to sit down without feeling faint after a day of recovery.

Momma and the twins sat around the table speaking about their days. They smiled lovingly at each other and shared an easy conversation while I made sure they had their favorite drinks filled to the top of their glasses. Gabby liked exactly four ice cubes, Gabriel six. Momma liked as many as I could get into the glass without the drink overflowing. It was their game they played every night: could Eden manage to not spill the drink onto the table?

They never said thank you. They never showed any type of gratitude towards me, but I just hoped Momma would show some type of acknowledgment. I just wanted her to see how much I had worked, how tirelessly I had slaved over every detail of the house to make sure she was satisfied, how great I was at cooking and cleaning at such a young age. At the very least, I was fortunate to not receive another beating. That was acknowledgment enough that what I had done was enough to ward off the hands of my mother.

When the twins had gone to sleep and my momma passed out on the couch, clutching her bottle of whiskey like she used to hold me, I snuck into the kitchen and took some pills, hoping I could alleviate the pain I felt. The pain in my chest never seemed to dissipate, but at least I'd be able to sleep before school in the morning. The day finished without Momma's hands and the twin's words. I went to bed happy for the first time in a very long time. 

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