"You'll never amount to anything" "Stupid" "You'll be a whore just like your mom"
Ahh...the soothing words of my childhood.
I've been sitting in the window for about an hour waiting on mom to get home, I don't understand why she is always late. Counting the cars that go by and willing the next one to be her all while silently praying that she comes home alone this time. My four year old brain can't comprehend the importance of this, but I know that if she shows up with one more man there will be more than just trouble.
A white van pulls into the drive, hmm..they must be turning around, then I see the dome light come on as the door is opened and my mother leaning over the middle console to kiss someone, a stranger to me. Should I tell dad? I make my decision quickly, "Dad, Mom's home!" Oh, no!
Dad comes walking to the window to see if I am telling the truth and then his eyes land on the sight I am seeing. I see that his face is completely red as he is, as calmly as he can, telling me to go upstairs to bed and take my brother with me. I obey knowing that if I don't it will only make matters worse. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, but being an experienced "in the middle" child that I am there is no way I am just going to hop on upstairs so I take Ryan up and sneak back to the hall where I can hear what will go on.
The door opens and my dad is ready. I can tell by his voice he is trying to control his temper as to not upset us (the children) but he is having a hard time and soon loses his cool. "Get out you f***ing wh*re. Just get your sh*t and get the f*** out!" My mom says nothing, I can barely see her from where I sat hidden in the darkness, but what I can make out she looks scared. Her bruises from the last attempt at stupidity just barely fading she turns to run, my dad is to quick and grabs her arm slamming her into the door. I hear the family picture that hung just inside crash to the floor.
He rips down her pants and bend her over delivering one quick blow to the behind before kicking her out and slamming the door behind her. Once shut he walks to the laundry room and grabs a basket. "Alaina, go get all your mother's clothing." I am so confused but I follow Dad's orders not wanting him to do the same to me.
After bringing what I can find he takes the basket and walks to the front lawn. My mother is no where to be found, she must have ran next door to her mother's house. Dad pours a liquid over all of Mom's stuff and then I see him light a match and flame engulfs the entire basket. I am too terrified to cry, but want to scream. I don't know if I should be angry with him or her, who is in the wrong?
Dad tells me that she will never come back, without a reason or an explanation just the words "She's never coming back" and then sends me to bed.
That was the last night my mother ever lived in our home. I was four years old, my brother was two.
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