What Horror To Wake Up To At Night ... (Part One)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A boy wakes up in the middle of the night to another one of his parents' fighting matches; but this one has turned physical.

Submitted: May 20, 2017

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Submitted: May 20, 2017

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Last night was the worst night by far.  One that I'd really like to forget (but can't).  Because of Dad's tirade, Mom's in the hospital with injuries to her face; Dad got mad at her after one of his drunken rages and started punching her right in the face.  He even managed to knock out several teeth in the process.

I was sound asleep, dreaming of my upcoming birthday, when I heard screaming and yelling and the sounds of bodies thudding and things being shoved around.  When I went to check to see what was going on, I was shocked to find Dad pushing Mom onto the floor, then he knelt down beside her, and he started punching her, hard.  There was soon blood pouring from Mom's mouth and nose.  It truly scared me.

I went racing back to my room and called 9-1-1, asking them to send for an ambulance (for Mom) and the police (for Dad), as he was acting out of his head again due to an alcoholic stupor.  The smell of liquor was very strong; I think it may have been moonshine; that's what it smelled like to me.

Dad was a habitual alcholic; Mom had tried numerous times to have him get help, but Dad remained oblivious to her suggestions.  He could not stop drinking, and when he did drink, he turned into a raving lunatic who was clearly out of control with his behavior.

I started crying as I talked to the 9-1-1 dispatcher; she tried to get me to calm down, and to stay on the line until the ambulance and police arrived.  It was the longest few minutes of my life!  I then heard the sirens in the distance and said they were coming; she said for me to remain on the phone until they arrived at my front door.  I knew Dad wasn't going to be happy with the police showing up, but he was hurting my mother; I had to take drastic action, and fast, before he ended up killing her.

The paramedics and police knocked on the door.  I let them in; soon the police led a very angry man out the front door (they'd put him in handcuffs), but not before Dad gave me a look from hell and spit in my face and called me a nasty name.  Meanwhile, the paramedics were in the kitchen, tending to Mom, who still lay on the floor, crying.  Her face was a bloody, bruised mess.  Dad had really worked her over, I remember thinking.

Soon, they had her on the gurney and they rolled her out the front door to the ambulance, which still sat waiting in the driveway, its lights still flashing yellow, red, and blue.  The police car was there too; the cops were putting Dad into the back; Dad was still ranting and raving like crazy.  I had never seen him this bad.

I wondered if the moonshine he had gotten a hold of was a bad batch or where it had come from; I knew Dad was going to be in major, major trouble; but at the time, I didn't care one iota; I had to take action, to try to save my mother's life, whcih was exactly what I did.  I felt like a hero, but only for a second; the rest of the time, I felt helpless, defeated; I was also feeling rage towards my father for doing this to Mom.  Mom didn't deserve to be his personal punching bag; she was only trying her best to provide for the family and take care of him and things at home.  That's all.

*to be continued!*

 


© Copyright 2017 Karen Lynn. All rights reserved.

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