Clouds darkened, thunder struck and rain poured, it was a night I will remember all my life. I was a young child kissing my mom’s wounds as usual, never asking how she always hurt herself. It didn’t matter or so I wanted to believe.
I heard him knocking angrily and instead of opening, my mom dragged me out from the back door and asked me to hide. I could feel the dampness and smell of rotting rubble take over me. Inside I could hear them shouting and then something fell with a thud. I slowly came out thinking the worst was over but then I froze with the sound of gunfire. I ran back to my hiding, covered my ears and closed my eyes.
I never went inside that night and by morning the doors leading me inside were closed. I peeped from a window and saw a corpse. It was my father but I was numb. I was still numb when they arrested mom for his murder. I was numb. But I was numb when she cried in pain every night. It didn’t matter or so I wanted to believe.
It’s been years and I am still numb, still in hiding.