Dark Day

DARK DAY

         Each day in the family household, from the outside would seem like every other family's home. They had the three daughters, the mother that stayed at home and the husband who went to work to support his loving family.
         Unless you were one of them, you would never know the difference. The difference was that they kept the horrible secrets of how their father beat their mother and used capital punishment on them.

Let us begin.........

         The three girls were not that far apart in age. Born about three years apart from one another, they had reached the ages of almost a year, 3 yrs, and 7 years old. The oldest daughter got to witness everything that happened first hand in this family. She had kept the biggest secrets of all.
         Their parents never really got along. They always fought about everything. The father was verbally and physically abusive to the two older girls. But more so to the oldest because she was at the age where she could tolerate the beatings he dished out to her. Dad was always angry and the oldest was always the first one to get the tale end of his boot or hand. Sometimes she would only see the corner with her hands to her sides and no dinner. If the oldest didn't move she was greatful that night, that she never got the steal tip of a boot shoved in her ass. (He once threw the oldest into a pile of simulac formula cans and she went right through them. He was angry she skipped the bus at 7 yrs old!)
         Sooner or later he was not only laying his hands on the oldest but their mother too. Their father was probably always doing this, but he just couldn't control it any longer in front of the girls.
         The two older girls were eating dinner down in the kitchen when they heard their parents screaming loudly at one another. Trying not to listen, it became increasingly closer to them. Their mother stood on the steps on her way down to the kitchen, with their youngest sister in her arms. Their father was right behind her. Yelling loudly, " Fucking bitch, listen to me, I'm talking to you!" Their mother was trying to walk down the stairs to get away. He grabbed her arm as he was moving down closer to her. The girls tried not to look. The oldest was turning her head slightly, so she could see out of the corner of her eye. Their mother was crying for their father to leave her alone because she had the baby in her arms.
         - SWAMK - That's how it sounded to the oldest. Too fast to really see it all. His fist hit their mother right in the mouth. She was still holding their sister on the steps. Their father was trying to grab her from their mother. The blood was just rushing from her mouth. Their father split their mother's lip, from under the gum up to her nose. One swift punch.
         The oldest's life goes blank for many months. Till another incident arrises. The girls' parents were fighting again, nothing new to the kids. The baby was now about 1. Their dad knew that the girls were upset with him for the way he treated everyone in the family. What the oldest didn't know, was that he was about to release the ultimate rage on their mother. Their mother sent them upstairs into their bedroom and told them not to come out. She had a friend to make sure that the girls stayed upstairs. She was already there when the fighting started.
         You could hear them fighting from one part of the house to the other. Things were breaking and getting over - turned. Yelling and screaming loudly. The girls all covered their ears. The oldest decided it was time to listen. For the sounds, that there was no more of. For the yelling, that she heard none of. For the screaming that she was praying had just ended because they made up. She needed to find out what was happening. The house was too silent and that made her too scared. More scared then when the house was flaring with curses and the pottery was flying like it had grown wings. The friend did not want to let her go. The oldest was determined and she went.
         Slowly moving down the steps, she listened. For anything that she could hear. But there was no sound of her parents inside that house. She walked past the dining room table and the chairs were thrown onto the other side of the room. She listened to the hall area going down to the kitchen and she never heard them. Walking to the living room, she saw the planter turned over and the soil dumped onto the floor. The ugly green couch was all a wreck and the front door was open. THE FRONT DOOR IS OPEN!
          The oldest slowly walked out to the porch. A child of barely 7 years old. The night was so dark. But the dimly lit porchlight was on. It took her a while to focus her eyes on the mass of flesh on the street. "Oh my GOD!," she thought.
         The oldest didn't take time to think any more then she had already. "Get the hell....heck off of her!!", she cried, screaming. "Now!" Her father looked up at her. More angry that she had interferred in what he was trying to do. Kill her mother. His hands were still around her throat. " Get the the heck off her now," the oldest stuttered. " But she turned you girls against me," her father yelled to her. "I'm going to kill her for that." he stated. The oldest replied with, "No, you turned us against you, you did it , not her. Get off her now!" It took him a minute, but he finally got up. Time stood still from that moment on. The oldest went to her mother thankful that she had the courage to go down into the night. Even though her father let go of their mother that night, what he didn't know was he killed alot of emotions inside of that girl. He was trying to kill the one,and almost killed the oldest and never knew it. Only when he stopped trying to kill his wife, he never stopped to think of how that scene was going to affect his oldest daughter for the rest of her life!

 That girl who was barely 7 wore a candy cane striped nightgown that night with a matching hat. It had ruffles at the bottom . She lived in a yellow house on top of a hill in a little town called Lansford. That girl, the oldest, was ME. I often wonder what would have happened had I not come down that night. Would I still have a mother? Would I still be haunted by this trauma? I remember every little detail. Today I am a little girl of 27, trying to grow up.