Their Journey.

O N E.

                                                                                             KHYA

"Khya and Khyra get y'all asses down here and clean this kitchen", when we heard our stepfather, Mickey, yell out we immediately dropped to our knees and said a silent prayer. We prayed for our mother, our younger siblings and lastly prayed for us. Me and Khyra was the oldest out of our mother 5 five children. Our mother, Charise, was what people in our city of Detroit, rare beauty. She was fully black, brownskin with mid back length hair. She had a face full of freckles, big brown eyes that made her look innocent yet mysterious, hourglass frame, standing at 5'4 and 140 pounds. Me and Khyra was identical to our deceased father. Both standing at 5'1, slim thick frames, auburn hair that was inches above our waistline that we kept under the best Brazilian hair, light brown skinned complexion, and hazel eyes. Only difference between us and our father is our button nose that we inherited from our mother.

We rushed to the kitchen before our stepfather got upset and started cleaning the small mess. Broken glass, small specks of blood splattered and chairs thrown around. We're sure him and our mom got into another fight. I looked at my twin sister and we both shook our head at the same time. We begged our mother so many times to leave Mickey but she would always say she was afraid of what would happen if she did. He's been arrested 3 times for domestic violence and was always let out on personal bond. The fights got so bad that our 15 year old brother, Kameron had ran away to our fathers living parents house. One day him and Mickey fought so bad that we thought that Kameron would kill him. At the age of 7, Kameron developed a anger issue and our grandparents felt it was best to put him in boxing.  Kameron came around whenever Mickey wasn't around but he called every day to check on us. 

"I wish mom would just leave. This shit ain't right. He's going to kill her one day." Twin had said this so many times and she often voiced to our mother that she was going to be seriously hurt. Our mother even sat us down one day and told us that she was planning to run away one day and if she didn't make it out to take our 2 youngest siblings Khyler and Kyndall and go to our grandparents house. I agreed with my twin and went back to wiping the counters while Khyler came in the kitchen swiping. I often stayed quiet about the situation because my opinions wouldn't change anything.

It took us under 20 minutes to clean up the mess and we all decided to go out and get lunch from the Coney Island two blocks down. I was looking down at my phone texting Kameron when my 11 year old sister Khyler started crying.  "Bug, whats wrong?" I immediately dropped my phone and asked her. "Why couldn't daddy be here to save us? I hate seeing mom get hurt. I wish I could make her leave." I knew it was bad because Khyler never cried. Ever since the first fight 2 years ago when Mickey slapped Khyler for crying she hasn't cried publicly. "We all wish daddy was here Bug but one day mommy will leave. It's all going to be okay." Or at least I could hope.