Two small children ages five and three huddled in a corner, screaming, crying and hoping this night would come to an end.
Mother and father fighting, over what, we didn't rightly know. Like many nights it was just probably something minor and small, that just escalated into our mom fighting back, once again. Our father's fists trying to connect time after time with our mom's face and body. Both rolling around from bed to walls. Blood splatters across the wall, from the knife that just was pulled on my mom. Our stepfather's blood, red against a once white wall. They stop, finding out that one of them had been actually cut in the process of there violence against one another. They make up, once enraged, both make up? Are these people for real?
Children not knowing what too think about the blood against the wall, the ca-motion is over. Just as quick as it had started, but know turning his attentions to the third child, that had been sleeping on the floor. My younger brother who is about eight at the time, had a problem with sleep walking and wetting the beds that he had slept in. He was soon to never sleep on a bed again, for he always wet it and our stepfather, just wouldn't allow that anymore. Our stepfather ordered him to get up and clean the carpet, but then wouldn't let him get up to get anything to clean it with. My brother was getting up too slow, scared of the fists that may come or the heavy boots that our stepfather wore all the time.
Our brother now hands and knees to the floor slowly making his way up, our stepfather pushes him back down to the floor, once again. He screams at him to get up and clean the carpet once again and once again not letting him get up with the power of his leg. He orders my brother to now lay his head up against the soaked carpet, full of my brother's own urine. My mother stands behind our stepfather all the while, not saying a word, just watching. Little children still huddled in the corner, crying. I myself was only ten years old and was know standing up watching what was about to come to a head of our stepfather's rage. Crying and pleading for our stepfather to stop, he wouldn't listen, just screamed and ordered our brother to lay his head to the urine soaked carpet. I was confused, scared and thought that he was just about to loose it. Was our stepfather just about to kill our brother in front of our very own eye's? I cried out, I pleaded with him, he continued as if nothing existed and he had finally been fed up with our brother. He seemed to want to permanently fixed the situation and then that would be that.
Our brother shook in fear, sobbing, but couldn't hardly move, because of the fear of what our stepfather was about to do. Our stepfather yelled and helping to get my brother's head to the floor with his heavy black boot, put his head to the wet cold carpet. Telling our brother to keep his head there, he began to raise his leg in an upward motion. Like he was just about to stomp out a large bug. My eye's widened, I could not believe what I was about to witness. I begged more and pleaded, with our stepfather to stop. "Please, stop, Please stop", I begged. Our mom still standing there, not saying a word, not doing anything, children still huddled in the corner, eye's know closed just trembling and crying. Had this become, finally a witness to what was going to be a murder? Had he finally flipped and was going to take one of us out?
He raised his leg as far as he could get it in the air and came down with a blow to the side of our brother's head. He screamed out, I pleaded and begged, crying, for our stepfather to stop and now adding the words, "Your going to kill him", Stop!", "Stop!". But our stepfather continued, his blows to the side of our brother's head. A once crying, shaking child, was now beginning to flip around like a fish out of water, as our stepfather made each one of his blows connect to our brother's small head.
Mother and father fighting, over what, we didn't rightly know. Like many nights it was just probably something minor and small, that just escalated into our mom fighting back, once again. Our father's fists trying to connect time after time with our mom's face and body. Both rolling around from bed to walls. Blood splatters across the wall, from the knife that just was pulled on my mom. Our stepfather's blood, red against a once white wall. They stop, finding out that one of them had been actually cut in the process of there violence against one another. They make up, once enraged, both make up? Are these people for real?
Children not knowing what too think about the blood against the wall, the ca-motion is over. Just as quick as it had started, but know turning his attentions to the third child, that had been sleeping on the floor. My younger brother who is about eight at the time, had a problem with sleep walking and wetting the beds that he had slept in. He was soon to never sleep on a bed again, for he always wet it and our stepfather, just wouldn't allow that anymore. Our stepfather ordered him to get up and clean the carpet, but then wouldn't let him get up to get anything to clean it with. My brother was getting up too slow, scared of the fists that may come or the heavy boots that our stepfather wore all the time.
Our brother now hands and knees to the floor slowly making his way up, our stepfather pushes him back down to the floor, once again. He screams at him to get up and clean the carpet once again and once again not letting him get up with the power of his leg. He orders my brother to now lay his head up against the soaked carpet, full of my brother's own urine. My mother stands behind our stepfather all the while, not saying a word, just watching. Little children still huddled in the corner, crying. I myself was only ten years old and was know standing up watching what was about to come to a head of our stepfather's rage. Crying and pleading for our stepfather to stop, he wouldn't listen, just screamed and ordered our brother to lay his head to the urine soaked carpet. I was confused, scared and thought that he was just about to loose it. Was our stepfather just about to kill our brother in front of our very own eye's? I cried out, I pleaded with him, he continued as if nothing existed and he had finally been fed up with our brother. He seemed to want to permanently fixed the situation and then that would be that.
Our brother shook in fear, sobbing, but couldn't hardly move, because of the fear of what our stepfather was about to do. Our stepfather yelled and helping to get my brother's head to the floor with his heavy black boot, put his head to the wet cold carpet. Telling our brother to keep his head there, he began to raise his leg in an upward motion. Like he was just about to stomp out a large bug. My eye's widened, I could not believe what I was about to witness. I begged more and pleaded, with our stepfather to stop. "Please, stop, Please stop", I begged. Our mom still standing there, not saying a word, not doing anything, children still huddled in the corner, eye's know closed just trembling and crying. Had this become, finally a witness to what was going to be a murder? Had he finally flipped and was going to take one of us out?
He raised his leg as far as he could get it in the air and came down with a blow to the side of our brother's head. He screamed out, I pleaded and begged, crying, for our stepfather to stop and now adding the words, "Your going to kill him", Stop!", "Stop!". But our stepfather continued, his blows to the side of our brother's head. A once crying, shaking child, was now beginning to flip around like a fish out of water, as our stepfather made each one of his blows connect to our brother's small head.
