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AURORA'S POINT OF VIEW

It happened again. He did it again. He hit her. He was on to me next. I had to make a run for it. I was tired of it all. I needed to find solace or else I knew the bruises would be deeper this time. He came back drunk again for the hundredth time. Banging the door, shouting "Let me in!"

How could I when I know that he is going to beat the hell out of us if I did. The whole neighborhood was as silent as a graveyard. As it should be at 1:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a time of sleep for every being that crawled the earth. Mere mortals had taken to heed and unearthly beings roamed the night. How could I know if he hasn't been possessed by one of them?

He has always been so vulgar. No! He wasn't like this. The incident made him so. There was a time when we were so happy. I still remember those summer days when dad would take us to the beach or those Christmas mornings when we'd build a snowman.

Dad used to braid our hair and pancake Sunday was the best day of the week. But... all that changed when the incident happened.

I do sympathize with my father because of it, but truth be told, we all suffered from it so he wasn't any less different from us. He took his grief way too far. We got over ours quickly but that didn't mean we didn't love her. It was only because we wanted her to move on too. We knew that if we didn't move on, she wouldn't. We were her stuck point.

"Don't mother! Don't do something that you would come to regret!" I said to my mother as I watched her about to open the door for my father. She was about to let him!

"Not again! Not this night too! It's too sacred to be ruined with scars and bruises. Just let him stay outside, mother!" I warned her again.

She couldn't let him in and let him ruin the night for the both of us. It was his shouting that woke us up from our sleep. We proceeded down the stairs, our hearts filled with jitters and fear.

It was evident to us that today's drinking was different from the normal routine. His voice carried a hint of sadness in them and as he crouched down on his knees crying, we knew that it came from a place of hurt.

Which is probably why my mother thought it was best to let him in, to console him but I knew this beast better than anyone else. He wasn't deserving of a second chance or any chance for that matter.

As my mother twisted the door knob, I kept on waving my head in disagreement with her actions.

"No! No! No! Mother, please don't!" I muttered countless times, begging her to rethink her actions but she gave me no heed.

"He will hit us and you know it! Just let him stay out there, mother! Don't do it, mom!" I persuaded her but she seemed to not budge.

"He is hurting. He is your father and remember that today is the day we lost her. Why don't we all grieve together? Why don't we console each other, together, as a family?" She said to me with a warm voice, her eyes moist and face filled with concern and love for that deadbeat of a man outside.

Why doesn't she ever listen to me?!

We are not a family anymore!

We cannot console him!

I knew I had to stop my mother. As the door gave way to streaks of lights from the outside, I rushed forward.

"No, no, no, wait, wait, please listen to me!" I yelled breathlessly as I stood in front of her, taking the door knob from her grasp.

My eyes welled up with tears as I struggled to clear my mind and find the right words to say.

Once I finally found my voice, I took a deep breath and began. "Mom... we can't keep living like this. I'm tired, aren't you?" I asked, my voice trembling.

My mother didn't respond but her hazel eyes mirrored her answers.

"Let's... let's call the police. Let's run away. I don't want to get beaten... please." I begged, tears streaming down my cheeks.

My mother's silence was heavy in the air. She cradled my face and wiped away my tears. She nodded in reply and as she opened her mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened.