B

I sat at the top of the stairwell, arms spread out with my right hand flat out against the wall and my left hand gripping the railing with all my strength. My heart, pounding and beating as if I were running through a jungle for my very life. My breath was shallow and rapid, giving me the feeling that I might pass out. My vision was singular – eyes focused on the doorway downstairs, my mind prepared to defend myself and my sisters. There was a predator downstairs and that predator could come throught he doorway at any minute, ready to tear me apart and then go after my sisters. I had to protect them. I had to do whatever was necessary to keep us all safe.

My parents had gone to my cousin’s wedding. I’m not sure where it was, and I don’t know who all went, but I know that when they came home, things weren’t as happy as they had been when they left. For whatever reason, mom and dad were fighting when they came home. Us girls had been upstairs and had heard them yelling at each other and whatever they were doing in the bedroom, it felt like the whole house shook at each loud, “BOOM” sound.

I tiptoed into the girls room to tell them that I would take care of them, and told them to stay in bed. I then made my way downstairs to the bathroom where I pretended to use the toilet. This was my method of recon and I used it often to “take the temperature” of my parents. I worked really hard to stay under their radar, but more often than not, I failed miserably and ended up being the source of their anger. I didn’t figure out what they were angry about, but I knew that dad was on a bender again.

The screaming didn’t stop when I reached the bottom step. Once I “finished” in the bathroom, I turned to head back up stairs and that’s when I noticed dad’s bloody fists sticking through the door. I thought to myself how that must’ve been what caused that big, “BOOM” sound earler. I remember mom plugging in the vacuum and thinking how odd that was, to be vacuuming at this time. Dad told her to put the vacuum away or he would put it away for her. I couldn’t stop moving. I knew if I paused for any reason they would notice me, so I kept trucking right back to that top step.

I had just resumed my outstretched arms position and grabbed the handrail when I heard the vacuum fire up. Dad’s voice rose above the vibration of the vacuum and he told mom to shut the vacuum off, which she did not do. Somehow he broke free of the door and I heard his footsteps quicken across the floor and suddenly the vacuum sound stopped. Then another “BOOM”! Mom went as silent as the vacuum. I found out later that Dad had chucked the vacuum across the living room. There was always a consequence when she didn’t listen to him.

I don’t know how that evening ended. I don’t know if he hurt mom or if he left. I can’t tell you. All I know is that I spent the night at the top of those stairs and I did not move until morning. And I know that I was fully prepared to kill my dad or die trying to save my sisters. I recognized that if he came up those stairs, one of us was going to go rolling down them, and I hoped it would be him and not me.