Tears of a Child by Louise Kinnear - HTML preview

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Chapter 1

Screaming, shouting and swearing are all I hear while hiding in a corner of my room. Tears rolling down my face knowing that there is nothing I can do to stop this.  I will get shouted at by someone I love so dearly. Someone I appreciated and looked up to all my life. I can hear how he hits her. Every slap echoes through the house. The screams of torture erupt through the silence of the night. Tearing of clothes and making her believe she is worthless. What kind of monster is this? From a placid person, he would change into a monster. My heart is racing so fast, it feels as if it wants to jump out of my chest. What did I know? What I did know, is what is happening on the other side of my bedroom door was abuse. Abuse that continued for years and no one has ever attempted to do anything about it.  This is destroying our lives.  This is affecting me. It is affecting my school work, affecting my thought patterns. This is destroying me! I heard the front door open and she tried to run from his claws, but was hit down from behind. I ran outside to see what is happening and could not believe my eyes. Her eyes were already swollen, her mouth bleeding and her clothes torn. “Go inside!” he shouted at me while pointing to the door. “I said go! NOW!” he yelled.  The anger in his voice is not unfamiliar. I saw him lift his hand again and between them stepped a young man. “Stop, please, stop!” he pleaded. “Haven’t you done enough? Look at her? Stop for a second and look.” the young man said as he tried to calm him down.  I stood in disbelief, as I dried my eyes, to discover who the pleading voice was. Just a young man himself, he stood before him, begging him to stop. I hear her crying as she lies on the grass, full of fear and heartache. I ran to her to help her up, help her to get out of the eyes of the evil people staring at the fiasco in awe. The shame he has brought on this family again. The shame of a woman beater and the pity of the abused are what those who stared thought of us yet again. She can hardly walk with the wounds this time. She wanted to go to her bedroom to make herself presentable. She wanted to wipe the blood off her face, put on clean clothing and cover up her bruises, like all the other times. “Mommy, let me help you” I said softly but she put her hand up. “I’m okay Gabriella, I’ll be fine” she said. “Why don’t you go to your room?  I will be there shortly to tuck you in.” Abby was in total shock.  As I stuck my head through the gap of the opening door, I saw my little sister sitting quietly on her bed with tears rolling down her face.  She was sobbing. The hurt that reflected in her eyes is not something you see every day, but in those whose hearts have been shattered. “It’s all over” I whispered as I moved closer to her. I held her so tight. My eyes were blurry with my tears and my heart felt as if it was bleeding.  Bleeding to know that the man I adored, has hurt my mommy so badly. We sat like that for a while, till we heard the door handle. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” he asked as he popped his head into our room.  “We were just about to climb into bed” I replied as we opened our beds.  I climbed into Abby’s bed.  I could feel her still shaking caused by the terrible ordeal that struck our home. Her heart is beating so fast and she is still sobbing as she falls asleep. Lying there, thoughts ran through my head; All the questions that I need to be answered, yet I dare not ask them out loud.  What if we could pack our bags and run away, far away from all of this. Run far away from a monster. Would it make a difference in our lives as children? After all, we are only children. How will this impact our lives in the future? When will things change? When will this stop? The fear caused a restless night’s sleep for I opened my eyes with every creak and crackle I heard during the course of the night. “Wake up girls” I heard as the aroma of the early morning coffee awoke me.  Our eyes were all puffy, because of all the tears that were shed last night.  It was the soft and gentle voice of an angel. You can tell that she has been up for quite some time this morning.  Her hair was all done up beautifully and she tried to cover her bruises with the porcelain base cream.  She was wearing a navy blue trouser with a white and navy blue blouse.  My mother was surely an angel.  You could smell the Opium perfume from a distance. “You need to get up now girls, or else you’ll be late for school” she said as she handed our coffee to us. She bent her legs slowly to sit on the bed opposite to us. The pain in her eyes is very apparent. There is still redness around her neck of how he grabbed her. The memories went through my head over and over again.  I was brought back to sanity with the touch of my mothers’ hand. “You need to get dressed.” She continued “Girls, what happened last night is not being spoken of at school. Not with anyone, not even your friends and especially not your teachers. Your father loves you very much and would never do anything to hurt you.” She got up slowly trying to hide the excruciating pain; physical and emotional trauma.  It took all her will power to hide it from us but I can see the suffering in her hazel eyes.  Abigail was devastated. Tears rolled down her face while she got dressed for school. She was weak and tired and anybody knowing her would see it immediately.  I, on the other hand, was angry. I was disappointed in the man that I trusted and loved so dearly.  I was hurt by the swearing and name calling. What has possessed him to do such a horrible thing? I am torn apart...