The Untold Part of My Childhood

Not Today

Its 12 AM, it's still dark outside. Dad got home from surgery today. Moms stressed out. I know this and yet the thought of what happened 5 years ago has gotten to its breaking point. The thought pounds against my skull like warning drums pleading for me to come clean about what happened. It's 12:30 AM now, and I'm shaking like a leaf caught in a bad storm. A storm filled with memories that ought to be forgotten. But his touch, smell, taste, sound...it still lingers around me, like when the wind blows a certain way you can catch a smell of the bakery down the street if you're lucky the coffee shop too. But the slightest thought of him the wind picks up and encloses me in a tornado of bad memories. it's like a never-ending nightmare, only your awake and has no control over how your mind and body react. All you can do is curl up in a ball and wait the storm out. It's 1:00 AM now, i decide its time to come clean, change the forecast for sunny days. I walk down the stairs, hands shaking, one braced against the wall the other holding the railing. Not for balance but for support if the storm were to kick back up again. I get downstairs, making sure my hood is up and my head is down, i head through the dining room to the living room to find my father sitting there. "Where's Mom?" i ask making sure to keep my voice as clear as possible to cover up any quiver in my voice that may indicate i was crying. "she ran away and joined the circus," my father says to me with a grin. always has been a joker since i could remember, usually, his jokes make me laugh but this time i had other things to worry about. "I'm serious dad, wheres mom?" i say making eye contact. "She's in on the other couch sleeping why? something wrong?" he asks me his normal voice, his tone lets me know that he's not joking this time but not too concerned either. "Nothing just wondering," I say and go to the bathroom as i let my father's words sink in. They hit me like a single, hard, cold, wind hits the top of a tree, hard enough to rip the leaves off but not hard enough to break any branches. i put my hands on the sink and let the rainfall. like a river, it streams down my cheeks into the sink leaving tiny droplets of water. i grip the sink trying to keep myself up, as my knees clank together like the clacking of silver spoons. soon i give in, realizing I'm enclosed in the tornado again. i sit there and let the water stream from my eyes as i beg for the pain to stop. soon the storm is over and i make a quick exit to my room. i sit there and think for a while. It's 1:22 AM now, i make another trip downstairs, but this time i turn to the kitchen, its a straight path to the next room. Where my mother lies there sound asleep, i think back to the times she has told me to wake her if i ever need her. i take a deep breath and slowly taking one step at a time. I eventually reach the archway, i hear my mother sleeping, her breathing, it's like a light gentle warm summer breeze. but soon i realize i can't move, well forward at least. It's like this invisible barrier. i then remember earlier mother took a nap because she had been up since 4. i realize that she needs the sleep, so i turn away and retreat back to my room. Do i dare venture back down?

 Not Today.