A Child's Wish

First Look at Fear

I felt her arms squeeze me tightly as she screamed. Fear covered her beautiful tan face, that was also flushed with anger as steam seeped through her eyes. I was only 6 months old but I learned that when my father was yelling with a bottle of Jack in his hand, it would always end as if a natural disaster came through and destroyed only the inside of our home and anything in its way.

My hair was short and slightly curly on my tiny head and my skin was a very light brown. I had eyes that were a dark chocolate color and round. I was such a small baby. My sister, Raea, was 2 years older than me, her hair was to her shoulders and more like my fathers, a dirty blonde color. She was a little whiter than me and super thin. Her bottom lip was two times the size of her top lip, if she had any top lip at all. Her eyes were beautiful, hazel and full of life.

He took another swig with his dark, dirty blonde mustache touching the rim and grinned at my mom. "Are you fucking stupid", he slurred with the smell of liquor pouring out of his dry lips.

"Mike, please just stop. Not around the kids.", my mom begged. Her beautiful, deep brown eyes were filling with water but a tear did not fall. My mother, mentally, was always a strong woman.

Like a bulldozer, he shoved my mom into the wall as he clenched his jaw. It felt as if a train had hit us and pinned us up against the ugly, yellow tinted wall. My older sister, who was 2 at the time, began to scream and cry at my moms legs as I remained in my moms arms.

"MIKE STOP!!! PLEASE", she yelled as tears rolled down her cheek. She had perfectly round cheeks that were sprinkled lightly with freckles.

He stared at her with his blood shot, ocean colored eyes. Not a beautiful ocean, but an ocean that you know is swarming with sharks and waves that will take you under the ice cold water in seconds. He smirked and walked back to the room where the bunk bed they were putting together for us remained only half complete.

My mom took this opportunity to run. She grabbed my sisters tiny hand, still holding me in her arms, and busted out the door full force to the the little green car parked out front. Without hesitation, she opened the door for my sister and threw me in the back seat that was filled with junk just in time for me to look over to see the black screen door fly open. My father came storming out, face as red as his blood shot eyes, with a bat gripped so tight that his tattooed knuckles were white. Watching him sway the bat next to his worn out, faded black jeans.

My mom started to panic. She put the keys in and turned them but got nothing but a putter.

Please start... Please start..

"Where the fuck do you think you are going with my kids!", he yelled as he approached closer to the car spitting as he screamed. He reminded me of a massive animal approaching its prey 

My mom turned the keys again, begging God for the car to start. "Please God, please... Don't let him hurt my kids. Get us out of..."

SMASH! I looked up to see the windshield completely shattered by the bat with little pieces falling on the dash board like rain. It felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. Looking at my mom as she flinched and buried her face into her hands. Watching as my older sister frantically looked for a place to burry her face from the next swing we were expecting him to take.

Within seconds, my mom swung her door open with full force, knocking my intoxicated father on his ass. With one hand she snagged me from the back seat and my sister from the passenger seat. I never expected my mother to be so quick or strong, but she sure was determined enough to make it happen. She began to run down the dark, cracked up asphalt. She picked me up all the way and had my sisters hand, practically dragging her as her little feet struggled to keep up.

At that very moment, I watched my moms face. I watched the fear, pain, sadness, and anger all at once drip down in the mixture of sweat and dirt off of her forehead. I looked back to see my father wobbling to his feet to catch his balance. He was struggling to stand almost as if his legs were jello.

"Fuck you bitch! Fuck all of you", as he tried to get enough balance to stand as well as catch his breath. "You are fucking dead."

Dead?

I was unsure of what the word meant exactly but I felt it deep in my bones. I felt the chills slowly racing up my forearms to the back of my neck and nose dive straight to my toes.

For 8 blocks my mom ran. She did not stop once or look back. She was not a runner, in fact I don't think I have ever witnessed her run in my life, but that night she ran hard, fast, and long. The sweat was pouring off her face by time we approached the small little white trailer with the big red van outside. She ran up to the fragile door banging on it as if she was trying to bust the door down. My grandma opened the door in her pajamas, blinking herself awake when her face suddenly dropped.

"Please keep them here, keep them with you for a few days. It's Mike again.", my mom said as she shoved us on to my grandma, refusing no for an answer.

"Stay here with us Cheryl. Don't go back over there, he is going to hurt you. Please Cheryl, stay...", my grandma begged with her calmest voice she could find at the time but within seconds my mom was already heading back down the street.

My grandma scooted my sister inside the house and held me in her soft arms. She seen the dirt smug on my sisters check and her swollen eyes from her crying. She just shook her head in disappointment and kissed us both on the cheek, the soft smell of beer still on her lips. "Let's take a bath girls."

Shortly after our bath, we laid in the living room on the floor watching the Rugrats movie. My grandma made us a bed out of couch cushions and quilted blanks. In the kitchen my grandma and papa sat at the old, round oak table talking about my mom and dad while drinking a beer or two. I looked over to my sister, she was finally asleep, but I seen on her face that what had happened back there between my mom and dad was something terrible. She fell asleep that night tucked half under the blankets with a sad look imprinted on her face.

That night, I felt for the first time true fear. Fear of my mom not making it out of my fathers explosion safely. Fear of my father barging in to steal us and hurting anyone in his path. Fear of Meth, how it could change a person within seconds. Fear of alcohol, how it could bring so much anger upon someone. I felt fear for the first time and at that moment my chest felt like it was being crumbled like a ball of paper... I felt sick.