\ˈləv\

\ˈləv\ 1.)

A few moments ago we were happily sitting on the edge of a pond with our fingers pink from the cold, grasping tightly to our fishing poles. We hadn't caught anything but we still rewarded ourselves with some gas station goodies: Gatorade and those waxy, chocolate donuts.

But now He's screaming at her from under his blonde mustache, eyes alight with blue fire. I'm holding my little sister's hand and crying harder as the noises from the living room get louder. We can't see them as we are hiding in the kitchen. Something is hurled through the air and crashes to the ground, for a terrifying moment I can imagine her body on the ground bruised and broken, and a scream tears through my throat.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He yells and she's shouting something back. Glass shatters and the dull thuds of fists landing on skin reverberate and pound its way through the old house. Something tears open and an ear splitting crash explodes from the storm unfolding.

And I can't stop it. I can't do anything.

Lily doesn't really understand what is going on, but she's crying because she sees how upset I am. My chest heaves as I lose air to the sobs wracking through my small frame. A small black kitten runs terrified to take shelter in the wooden cabinets behind us.

More yelling and loud, dangerous sounds thunder and roll all about crashing against my ears. My sobs escalate into an asthma attack, I can't breathe, now I'm coughing and coughing and coughing trying to suck in the elusive air. Finally choking on the absence of oxygen, I throw up and now I am even more terrified than I was, a mangled howl of fear escaping me as I fall to my knees. My throw-up was red, red as blood. I was convinced I was dying, just like the man who coughed like this and had to be taken away by an ambulance in my neighborhood. It wasn't until years later that I understood that the reason it was red, wasn't because it was blood but because of the red Gatorade I had drank earlier.

Finally I hear angry footsteps march up the stairs and with a final, "FUCK YOU!" the noise breaks into dead silence.

He loved my mom. She loved him. At that point, love to me was absolutely terrifying.