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A tear for my mother
The echo's of her cries fill my ears late at night, when I'm suppose to be sleeping. I get the urge to run, to help but something keeps me stiff in my sheets. I cover my ears, wishing for it to stop. Finally it does, followed by the slam of the front door.
crash! something shatters in mommy's room. Shaking, I force myself upright and listen. Soft crying mixed with cursing comes from the hall way. I know it's useless to leave my room, so I lay back down. Last nights incident plays in my head.
"mom?" I asked.
"Jessica, get back in bed right now!" Mom responds, with that implying tone of wrong doing. I look at her face, only a quick glance before I scutter back to my room. Her eye, its blackened... there is a gash above her eyebrow. Lip busted, arms bruised, twisted ankle.
A tear streams down my cheek, a tear for my mother. I tried and tried to recall less signifigant details of her from the previous night but was unable to do so. I could only imagine what she looked like now... caked it blood, gashes, bruises, broken bones. all were possible. Anything was possible with HIM.
Jerry Bakersfield, my dad.. my horrid dad. The wild look in his eye when he comes home from god knows where, drunken and angry. The anger, so much anger it seems; Toward my mother? What has she done other than give him a wonderful home, love, and a child? Nothing, thats what. How any human can do what he does is beyond me. He must be a monster.
Through the wind and the rain she stands; hard as a stone. With every lie she tells, does it get to her? I know, I know she wants to tell. She wants to stop the hurt, I want to stop the hurt. Yet she doesn't... is she afraid? Has he threaten her? Why doesn't she get help? Why...?
"Jessica?" Mom asks. I open my eyes, the light is blinding.. its morning.
"What?" I mumble still groggy from having just been woken up.
"Get ready for school!" Mom ushers. She leaves the room before I can get a look at her. I massage my temples trying to wake myself. When did I fall asleep? 1am, 2am, 5am? Not to long ago, for sure. I get dressed and comb my hair, ready to start a new day.
Breakfast is waiting on the kitchen table when I arrive. Eggs, bacon and toast. My mom is standing by the sink, looking out the window. I examine her, and feel a tear fall down my cheek. The fighting gets worse everytime, she lives in proof of that. Her eye was too black to cover with make-up. Her nose was bandaged and the brusies on her arms and legs were doubled, if not trippled. She see's me staring at her and quickly leaves the room. I turn my head back toward my breakfast, unable to down a bite of it. Im engulfed with sadness, when will it end?
It's after lunch, Mrs. Newburg is leading me to the office. Have I done wrong? The teachers all look at me with a pained expression. I'm told to sit in the counceling area. Mrs. Newburg looks at me with a foreign expression and pats my shoulder. I can't help but wonder what could be going on. Grades; Homework, test scores, notes? Do they think I cheated?
Suddenly, my dad appears in the doorway. I cringe, what has he done this time? He looks ragged and old, as if he hasn't slept in days. I begin to gag, his presence disgusts me. Mrs. Chang, the councelor nodds to him and he enters. He and Mrs. Chang sit opposite of me, they are quiet for a moment.
"What did I do?" I mumble.
"Jess..." My dad's voice trails off. I look up and he stares me straight in the face. A tear falls from his eye. I tilt my head sideways in confusion. Crying, Jerry bakersfield crying? Mrs. Chang looks to him nodds again and leaves the room.
"Leave." I say. He looks to his feet.
"Your...your mom..." He gasps. His breathing gets heavy. "She..she's..." he studders. My eyes, I feel them widen, the anger inside growing. I burst..
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" I yell, loud enough to draw attention. My father shakes his head, confusing me again. The rage isn't going away and I stand up. "Where is she?" I breathed.
"She...your mom, she killed herself." He replied.
I choke, lost for words. My knees buckle so severly I can no longer stand. My stomach has turned and I think I'm going to puke. I run out of the office, down the hall to the bathroom. I lock the door and grip the wall but I still slide down it.
A tear streams down my cheek, a tear for my mother. But god tell me, how long until its me?