Behind Closed Doors

Two

When I swing the door open, I'm face to face with two police officers. They both have the buzzed cut hair style and are bulky as hell. The only difference between these officers is that one is tall and the other is short. They have their hands on their guns, and are glancing around. The smaller one speaks first.

"He still here?"

"No."

I let them in, and sit down at the bottom of my staircase. I don't even know what to think. It's still hitting me that all of this happened. Again. So bad, at that. I lick my lip and taste the irony distinct taste of blood that's dried up on the bottom of my lip. My left eye is swollen shut, and my head is throbbing from where he pulled my hair out. I probably look like a hot ass mess. Leon and Acen run in from the living room and run right up to the police officers. The taller one pats them on the head, and I send them back to the living room to watch cartoons.

"So, what even happened?" asked the taller cop. His lip furrows as he gives me an once-over. God, I must really look that bad. I quickly give the officers a rundown of what happened. Once I'm finished, the shorter one leans against my kitchen table and begins typing on his computer. They banter back and forth with each other and I can hear them casually talking about what happened.

"I hope this motherfucker comes back. Did you see her face? How can someone do that to such a small woman? Makes me fucking sick."  The shorter cop is fired up. The taller one shakes his head and replies, "I don't know man, if he is as big as she says, and we may have a problem." The shorter one scoffs then laughs. "That doesn't mean anything at all, Scott."

The cop is right though. I'm five foot flat. Probably about 150 pounds from the added baby weight. Silky white-blonde hair and big gray-blue eyes. Small freckles sprinkle across the bridge of my nose as well. I wouldn't say I'm stunning. More or less the average girl you see at every gas station.

SKKKRRRRRTTTT.

I jump up quickly and run to look out of the kitchen window. The shorter cop is following right behind me. I hear the slam of a car door and see my mom, instantly. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. She's wearing jean shorts and a tank top. Her normal wear. Once she reaches the door, she starts yelling immediately.

"WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE."

Slowly reaching towards my eye, she peers into my face. I can see the tears pooling in her gray-blue eyes. She begins yelling different things. Things along the lines of how enough is enough and this time someone better do something. At this point, I'm sitting at the bottom of my stairs again. Everything around me feels like a huge blur. People talking, walking around, asking questions. My kids' are running around babbling to each other and everyone around them. They don't understand what is going on. Of what has happened to cause everyone to be here. I respond to the questions that are flown at me when I can. Why does this shit keep happening to me? Why can't he just leave me alone?

I hear a soft knock at the door and peer out the peephole to see who it is. Seeing the long black hair, I know it's Miranda immediately. She has her big sunglasses on, blocking most of her face. She looks at me and her jaw drops open. "Oh my god, Liz! Are you okay?" She grabs my hands and holds them. Miranda and I have a decent relationship, but not one close enough for hugs. If that makes any sense. I pull her inside, and quickly reply, "Yes, I'm as good as it's going to get." She glances into the kitchen and sees the cops. Throwing them a small wave, she walks towards the living room to get the boys' together. The boys' both run up to her and grab her legs. Giggling, she leans down and gives them both a big hug. It makes me really happy to see someone love my boys' the way I would want a stepmom to love them. I give them their "mommy kisses" and watch them leave. Fuck, this sucks. Sucks that they have to leave me because of this.