Day 8: A Moment

Can I write about an imaginary moment? No? Well then I dunno what I'm going to write about. There's so much that's happened in my life and to pick one moment is nearly impossible. Or two I guess since I'll have to write about another moment later on down the list. So then: my moment.

I'm not sure what day it was. Or even what month. I just know that it stands out in my mind, and probably will for the rest of my life. I had a migraine that day. I came home from school, laid down on the couch and took a nap. When I woke up, I noticed I had missed dinner so went to go find something for me to eat. That's when I heard it. The yelling coming from the office just a couple of paces away.

The doors were closed, and I knew better to go in and investigate. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I had this great feeling of dread come over me. I was no longer hungry. I started to walk across the living room to go find my sister and comfort her. To hide in our rooms until the fight was over.

Another noise, one I hadn't ever heard before started up. I looked toward the office with fear and that's when it happened. The double doors of the office were flung across the room in a way I never thought would happen. My dad came storming out soon after swearing like I had never heard before and went out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Frozen in place by the scene that I had just witnessed, I realized why I felt the dread. It was finally happening. My mother had warned my sister and I the summer prior that things were not well with her and dad. That a divorce was just over the horizon. We all cried together and went on with our lives. I never expected it to explode this way.

My mother walked out a couple minutes later, visibly shaken and crying.  She came over, gave me a hug, said she was sorry, and then sent me back to my room. I went to my little sisters' room instead. She was sitting on the edge of her bed. Just staring at the ground. She was old enough to know what was happening, but not old enough to remember a lot of the fights that had happened when we were younger. Several still stand out in my mind.

It seems like no time had passed at all when we heard the front door slam shut again. More yelling. Our house echoed, so we could hear everything that was said this time around. The words slut, whore, douche bag  and cheating were prevalent. I had never heard my parents fight on this level. It was obvious where this fight was leading.

I was dumb, and thought I could do something. I left my sisters' room and walked up to where my parents were fighting. My dad was yelling in my moms face. His face was red and spit was flying everywhere. My mother stood as stoic as she could, tears no longer falling from her eyes. I don't remember what I said. But my dad just turned and yelled at me, and my mother just looked at me and shook her head. Crying, I headed back to my sisters room and tried to comfort her while she silently cried alongside me.

Silence. A good solid hour of it. Pooka and I had calmed down enough to do stuff in our own rooms. I cleaned. I think she was reading. We heard someone walking down the hall, and my dad appeared soon after. It was the first time i'd seen him cry. "Your mother left me" he told us. He couldn't look either one of us in the eye. "Can I have a hug please? I just really need a hug from my two little girls." The roles were reversed. We hugged him as he cried. I don't know how long we stood there; I don't remember anything else about that night. It's just a moment in time, stuck in my memory forever.