I Missed You, Mommy.

There's this little girl cowering in the deep recesses of the closet. A loud bang causes a shudder to unwillingly possess her body. Her tiny body trembles and shakes as she burrows deeper into the closet, careful not to get the blood on her mommy's clothes. Then Mommy wouldn't be happy with her. Mommy likes her clothes. She wouldn't be happy if her clothes were stained; she would be very mad. The girl kneels among the bunches of clothing surrounding her. Her tears have dried up, midway down her small face. She fists her bony hands and bites her lip. Another bang, a shout, a crash, and a scream ripple throughout the place, where its echoes reach a girl's alert ears. The girl retreats within herself, mind and body. She wants to see mommy. Mommy's smile. She wants to feel mommy. Mommy's happiness. She wants mommy. Mommy's love. A terrified whimper startles the girl out of her longing. She recognizes the Bad Man's voice say Bad words. She hears mommy and her beautiful voice reply. Mommy? Mommy! A carrying slap resounds against the confining walls of the closet. A ear-splitting scream takes over her brain as the clash of a glass mirror connects with the hard-wood floor. Mommy, are you okay? Don't get hurt Mommy! Mommy! The girl burrows deeper into the deep corners of her haunted mind. The resounding noise was accompanied by another slap, another scream, and another crash.... Mommy? Mommy, where are you........ The sound of a body stops her. A door closes loudly signaling the departure of the Bad Man. The girl braces herself for the scene she's about to come out to. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four steps. Five steps. Six steps. Seven, eight, nine, ten steps bring her to the unmoving feminine body in front of her. Her eyes glimpse a piece of hell as she stares, immobile and frozen. Her mom, her pretty, loving mom is lying alone in a dark, thick red pool of blood. Mommy? Are you awake? Why aren't you answering me? The girl moves cautiously toward the ever-growing cold corpse. She kneels next to her and says, I won't be a bad girl ever again. Please, please Mommy wake up! I won't bother you ever again. Just wake up. Why won't wake up? What's wrong with you? A tiny, fragile hand covered with dried blood is stained with fresh blood as it moves the body to its front. An open mouth, scarred face with new scars, and eyes that still seem frightened stare back at her. The girl lays her head on her dead mother's chest and closes her eyes. She's going to her Mommy again. The broken mirror pieces on the floor reflects an image of a mother embracing her daughter into the depths of hell.



I missed you Mommy.