I was afraid

Shouting filled my ears, drowning out my thoughts. I heard the familiar voices of my parents in the other room, but they were no longer calm and peaceful as they had been a few moments earlier. 

I was afraid. 

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to hold in my cries. If they heard me I would be in trouble for sure. They never liked it when I cried. 

I was afraid. 

A loud crash came from outside my room. Something was broken. Maybe that old family photo. The enraged screams continued, perhaps even worse now.

I was afraid. 

I hid under my blankets, hoping the thin cloth would shield me from everything. I was listening, trying to see if they would come into my room.

I was afraid. 

The shouting ceased. I heard footsteps rush up the stairs and a door slam shut. I would not move. I would not allow them to find me.

I was afraid. 

I stayed hidden under my blankets. I did not sleep. I did not breathe. I didn’t not make a sound. The fighting was over. In the morning everything would be fine.

But when night would fall again, the shouting would resume. 

And once again, I would be afraid.