One Shots

Ghost

Mama told me to stay quiet. She told me that I would be safe if I didn't make a sound. She promised me. She also promised me she'd come back and get me and we would leave and never ever come back. She promised.

Mama said she was protecting me. She told me that her bruises didn't hurt, because they meant that I was safe.

Mama said that I should never hit people like Daddy does. She said it wasn't nice. It hurts people. I know it hurts my Mama.

The kids at school don't know this, though. They push and hit and call me names. I tell them that it hurts, but they don't seem to care. They all laugh when I walk in with bruises or scrapes from their cruel jokes, but Mama said that hitting isn't funny.

My teacher told me that they wouldn't hit me if I talked to them, but I didn't understand why I had to talk to someone for them to not hurt me. Mama said I shouldn't talk to people that hurt me, anyways.

Daddy called me a brat, but Mama said I should never take anything he says to heart. Mama calls me her sweet little boy, and she said that I should never forget that. I am Mama's sweet little boy.

I am Mama's strong little boy.

I will not cry. Mama said I needed to stay quiet.

I will not cry. Mama said she would be back soon.

I whimpered, immediately clamping my hand down over my mouth in horror. I stared at the closet door, afraid that Mama would open it and be angry at me for crying. I never liked it when Mama was mad at me. She would always take away my toys and make me sit in the corner when I was naughty, but I've gone so long without a time out that I feared disappointing Mama.

Tears streamed from my eyes as the seconds ticked by. I felt as if I'd been hiding behind Mama's clothes for a year when I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. I kept quiet, listening as they grew closer and closer, until I could hear their heavy breathing just beyond the closet door.

"I know you're in there." His voice was taunting, sending chills up my arms even in the cramped heat of the closet. I stopped breathing. "Come out, you little brat, or I'll drag you out by your hair!" He yelled, his fist slamming into the door with enough force to shake it in its frame.

I started to hyperventilate.

Daddy wasn't supposed to come and find me. Mama said that Daddy would be asleep when she came up to get me. 

"D-Daddy?" My voice trembled as I spoke, my face scrunched up in pain when I heard him growl. "Yes, you little shit. Now come out of the damn closet!" I bit my lip. Mama wouldn't want me to leave the closet. Mama told me to stay put until she came for me.

"No." My voice was barely above a whisper, but Daddy heard me very clearly. "What did you just say to me?"

"He told you no." The sound of Mama's voice made my breath hitch and my heart beat rapidly in my chest. "Something I should have done a long damn time ago." I heard Daddy's footsteps grow fainter, and I froze.

He was going to hit Mama.

Mama was gonna get hurt.

I started screaming, trying to get out of the closet as fast as I could. My hand grazed the knob on the door, but someone had locked it from the outside.

I was trapped, listening to Daddy curse at Mama. He called her things that Mama said were not nice words, and I heard sounds of objects crashing into what I could only hope were walls and not my Mama.

I screamed until my voice was hoarse. Until the crashes stopped and all I heard was yelling.

New voices joined in, and I slumped against the closet door, simply too exhausted for any more violence.