Alina’s little
heart thumped, thumped, thumped, to the rhythm of the sounds she
heard from the other side of the house. She was crawled up into a
ball, trying her hardest to cover her little ears with her
hands.
It was
helpless.
Her breaths were getting
shorter, her breathing shallower. She wanted to get out of the
closet where her Mommy had put her, but she didn’t want to
cause any trouble. Her Mommy had said to stay there, so she
did.
Alina didn’t know
what was happening to her Mommy. She didn’t know that her
Daddy was an abusive husband. She didn’t know that he had a
quick temper. She didn’t know that her Mommy was dying with
every single thump she heard.
She heard no
screams.
Just
thumps.
Silence.
She peeked through the
little slit between the two closet doors. Her Daddy ran by her,
shaking and panting. He slammed drawers and opened
suitcases.
“Shoot!” He
yelled, as he accidentally caught his hand in a closing drawer.
He grabbed his two suitcases in his uninjured hand and walked
away from his room.
Alina shook as she heard
him slam the door downstairs.
She trembled as she heard
the car door open and close.
She walked out of the
closet as her Daddy’s car sped away.
Silence.
She wasn’t used to
it.