The house that will never be silent

April 25, 2018
By BaylieChappell BRONZE, Glasgow, Montana
BaylieChappell BRONZE, Glasgow, Montana
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When life is more than you can stand, kneel".

I step through the door
I just got home from school
“Mom can I have a snack?”
No answer
I focus my eyes and finally see the walls
The walls that were waiting for my attention
The blood-stained walls that created the tainted memories that will never escape my mind
I walk to the wall and follow that blood-stained trail
Vulnerability fills my body
“Mom where are you?”
I end at the air vent, where a small pool of blood sits and an untold story lays
My mom walks out of her room with tear-stained cheeks and looks at me with empty eyes
She’s holding her pinky, her body is bruised from his hands
The hands that were supposed to protect her
The hands that were never going to hurt her
“You wanted that snack, baby?” she asks trying to stay strong for me
Trying to protect me
Trying to pretend like blood isn’t on the walls, or the floor, or the back of her head
The back of her head
The air vent
The pool of blood by the air vent where the back of her head was sliced from being thrown across the room
I was not there, but walls told me the story
The walls
They felt her impact and trapped her screams
“please don’t, please stop”
The walls
Watched him grab her by the wrists, anger in his eyes, fear in hers
He shoved her across the floor where her head met the air vent
The air vent that sliced her head like careless knife
The floor is a vibrant red the walls yell for her to get up, they know I’ll be home soon
She lays there, frozen in fear
She can’t get up
The walls
Watch the blood pool around her head the floor absorbs its crimson
He pulls her up by her wrists so hard that her pinky becomes toothpick snapping
A family now broken
The sound echos, bounces off
The walls
This house will never be silent
She tries to fight back, he is too strong
Her head bounces off the walls as they trap her screams and wear her blood
She finally gets free and dials the phone
The sirens sound as their cars stack up outside the house
He’s taken away, although his traces are still left
Hours later
I walk through the door
I just got home from school
She doesn’t clean the mess, she can’t
She’s still trembling with fear, playing back each piece of the scene
I look at her through the water that’s pooled in my eyes
“Sure, I’ll have that snack now mom.”

The author's comments:

I decied to write this piece because it is very personal to me, and it is something about me that many people did not know I had experienced.

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