His Name Was Damian

two

Naomi

I watched as the rain trickled down my window, mimicking the way the tears trickled down my face.

I'm the type to cry alone; never have I cried in front of someone in my life.

My mom knocked on my door. "Honey, can we talk."

"I'm not in the mood to talk right now." My voice sounded like grovel as I spit the words out of my mouth.

"Naomi, it's not your fault. Please, forget everything that he said."

"I said I didn't want to talk! Which implies that I don't want to listen to you either. Please, just give me some time."

My mom sighed loud enough to were I could hear from behind the door. Her footsteps became scarce as she walked down the hall.

The sound rang familiar; it was just like how my dad walked out moments earlier. His words tore me and through and through. He came home drunk, explaining how he met someone else and how he wasn't happy anymore.

I have never seen my mom cry as violently as she did. Banging on his chest, my mom begged him not to leave.

But he did.

And now it was me and my mom against the world.