Broken

About someone who's just heard their father leave them and their mother.

I still heard the door slamming,
Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour after it did.
I knew he'd left but I thought he'd come back,
now maybe.
Just come back, yell at her, argue.
Something.
Anything would be better than this.
He'd gone, how long for?
I couldn't tell you. Maybe forever.
He never had before, he's always come back.
I lay there, the hot water seperating me from the hallway,
I pretended I didn't know, I was oblivious to all of this happening.
I was frozen in the bath water, not crying, not shouting, not screaming.
Just there.
I imagined her face, her eyes would be red.
Stress and upset carved into every inch of her,
she'd be crying.
She'd pretend she wasn't when I appeared,
so I stayed hidden, in my cave.
Sulking, skulking, not appearing.
To give her a few minutes, maybe a bit longer -
just some time where she could pretend I was happy.
A few moments for her to think I didn't know he'd gone.