Mommy, why...

“Mommy, why…”


“Mommy…?”

“Mmm….,” I mumbled, just barely awake. “What is it, honey?” I asked my seven-year-old. I can’t even get a moment’s rest while I’m sleeping, I thought to myself, as I peered out from behind my flowered bedspread. But, no one was standing there. Beside my bed, to the left, in front of the oak nightstand, is where Kaitlyn should have been standing, but she wasn’t there. My eyes squinted as I was still trying to shake the fuzziness of sleep, and confront this new confusion. I guess I was dreaming.

I let out a deep breath, yawned and stretched, then pulled back my covers. Moving my legs slowly I pulled them over the side of the bed, and my feet touched the floor. Something seemed different. It wasn’t just the fact that my furry slippers weren’t next to the bed where they always are. It was something else, but I couldn’t quite place it.

I shuffled barefoot over to the adjoining bathroom, making my way through my morning routine. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I grunted. I looked like a wreck. My hair was thick and matted, my face was a complete disaster. Not only did I have dark rings circling my green eyes, but I had apparently forgotten to wash my face the night before. Another grunt muttered, and I got into the shower. It was after the shower, as I was brushing my teeth when something caught my ear.

“Mommy, why…?”

“What’s that, dear?” I managed to call out, my mouth full of toothpaste. No reply. After rinsing my mouth with water and placing my toothbrush neatly into its holder, I walked out into the bedroom in my white terrycloth robe. No one was there. “Kaitlyn?” I asked aloud. Again, no reply. I guess she didn’t hear me.

Making my way down to the kitchen to make myself breakfast, I got that feeling again; the feeling that something was different; something was missing. Again, I couldn’t place it. I walked into the kitchen and a gasp escaped my lips. If I thought my appearance in the mirror was a wreck, this was a disaster.

There were dishes piled on the counter, food left out, and garbage everywhere. Stains of various color streaked the white walls, and broken glass littered the floor. What the hell is going on? I asked myself.

“Mommy, why is Daddy…?”

“Kaitlyn, what??” I shouted, reeling around to face her. “What do you want?” My eyes darted quickly around to see…no one. “Where are you?? Are you hiding from me?? And where is your father??”

My face flushed with a hot, burning anger. I didn’t even care what was going on anymore; I grabbed the dishes and practically flung them into the sink. Looking under the kitchen sink, I saw that we were out of cleanser. Emitting another huge sigh, I slammed the cupboard door shut and stormed off to the basement to get more. I flung open the door, and tramped down the steps, my feet pounding loudly on each wooden beam. It was when I reached the bottom stair that the smell hit me. The smell of dirt.

The rich, musty, earthy smell struck my nostrils, and a flood of images flashed through my mind. A sarcastic comment, an ensuing fight, colors, objects being thrown. I was bombarded with visions of violence and shouting. My mind raced, as my body stumbled. I leaned to my left side, and grabbed hold of the banister next to the basement steps. My body slowly turned, and I saw the two mounds of dirt, just as my daughter’s voice came to my mind: “Mommy, why is Daddy bleeding?”


The End





word count: 616