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The Rain Never Leave Stains
#WritcoStoryPrompt38
The two girls jumped over the hopscotch they had drawn on the curb with white chalk. It was their favourite game and they would be at it for hours.
We hid in the back of the small closet in our room, holding each other hands while Angry thunder hammered at the night sky. Shadows shift as lightning strobes against the wall, rain spitting and hissing across the roof it's hard fingernails tapping and probing, seeking to find its way in. Every boom caused me to jump, feeding my fear as it batters against the wall of my fake bravery. I was the oldest born a minute earlier than Jade, but mommy always told me it was my job to protect Jade. Jade's tear-soaked the dingy carpet as our mother's screams reverberate off of the white wall. When school was open, we were safe from the beast that only let his presence known behind these walls. Every day when we came home from school mom had a new battle scar that decorated some part of her face or body, she tried her best to cover it up but we were far from stupid. She used to try to hide it from us but since school started to be remote she could no longer control what our eyes see and our ears could hear. "Where his the damn tissue?" he screamed, pounding on the wall. I knew it was something more than tissue since coronavirus came, he had lost his job, and alcohol became his friend... his full-time job. "Where is the damn tissue?" he screamed. Momma cries mixed in with the heavy rain. I could smell the fear coming from Jade as her hands started shaking like a wet leaf. I could hear him gulped down the liquor that he scrambled up pennies to buy but never seem to have enough to quiet down our stomach from rumbling. Mom cries raised higher as if it was howling at a full moon. Jade and I were only seven years old and couldn't help her against the 6'0 beast that shared the same hazel colored eyes as ours. We jumped, hearing the thundered clap as if God was getting angry with the scene before Him. "No, No," momma screamed before the house shook with the sudden silence. "Jada, I'm scared," Jade said, as peed poured down her leg. "Just closed your eyes and pretended that we are playing your favorite game hopscotch," I whispered. I was hoping the silence meant that daddy ran out to get more beer, and mommy was trying to hide her pain like she does every night. "Wait right here," I warned her. "But Jada," she started before I shot her a look. I breathed in and out and put my fingers on the doorknob. 1.2.3.," I counted down, opening up the closet door. I felt my heart drop to the ground as Daddy stood there like a boogie man that was going back in his to his hiding place. Red stains were splatter on his white shirt, and his eyes were unreadable. "All I wanted was tissue," his voice oddly calm." But don't worry... the rain never leave stains." He raised his knife, finishing his game.
Jada and Jada with matching ponytails and pink hairbows that swing with each hop, their black and white shoe hit the ground as if they wanted it to shake with their memories. Jade tossed the rock against the summer sidewalk. The rock navigated the faded chalk lines and lands on her favorite number, 6. She hopped as her pink hairbow swing back and forth. As she hops and called out the numbered squares, her footfalls and voice became the welcome song of summer. “One!” (hop). “Two!” (hop)… She hopped on every single square, almost losing her balance at 5. After skipping 6, she proceeds to 10. She clapped and jumped as she reached 10, safely… , turning around, and retraces her steps as I waited for her return. Laughter feels their belly as they rubbed their hands over their fresh matching scars that ran down the side of their pale face. Mom's eyes were like a mannequin lifeless and expressionless as she stood in her favorite spot by the bedroom window. We have never seen her smile or her eyes flickered with light since that night. We jumped over the hopscotch for hours it was the only way we felt alive even though every part of us was dead. And we know when the clock strikes twelve .... daddy will make us relive his game again.
© All Rights Reserved
The two girls jumped over the hopscotch they had drawn on the curb with white chalk. It was their favourite game and they would be at it for hours.
We hid in the back of the small closet in our room, holding each other hands while Angry thunder hammered at the night sky. Shadows shift as lightning strobes against the wall, rain spitting and hissing across the roof it's hard fingernails tapping and probing, seeking to find its way in. Every boom caused me to jump, feeding my fear as it batters against the wall of my fake bravery. I was the oldest born a minute earlier than Jade, but mommy always told me it was my job to protect Jade. Jade's tear-soaked the dingy carpet as our mother's screams reverberate off of the white wall. When school was open, we were safe from the beast that only let his presence known behind these walls. Every day when we came home from school mom had a new battle scar that decorated some part of her face or body, she tried her best to cover it up but we were far from stupid. She used to try to hide it from us but since school started to be remote she could no longer control what our eyes see and our ears could hear. "Where his the damn tissue?" he screamed, pounding on the wall. I knew it was something more than tissue since coronavirus came, he had lost his job, and alcohol became his friend... his full-time job. "Where is the damn tissue?" he screamed. Momma cries mixed in with the heavy rain. I could smell the fear coming from Jade as her hands started shaking like a wet leaf. I could hear him gulped down the liquor that he scrambled up pennies to buy but never seem to have enough to quiet down our stomach from rumbling. Mom cries raised higher as if it was howling at a full moon. Jade and I were only seven years old and couldn't help her against the 6'0 beast that shared the same hazel colored eyes as ours. We jumped, hearing the thundered clap as if God was getting angry with the scene before Him. "No, No," momma screamed before the house shook with the sudden silence. "Jada, I'm scared," Jade said, as peed poured down her leg. "Just closed your eyes and pretended that we are playing your favorite game hopscotch," I whispered. I was hoping the silence meant that daddy ran out to get more beer, and mommy was trying to hide her pain like she does every night. "Wait right here," I warned her. "But Jada," she started before I shot her a look. I breathed in and out and put my fingers on the doorknob. 1.2.3.," I counted down, opening up the closet door. I felt my heart drop to the ground as Daddy stood there like a boogie man that was going back in his to his hiding place. Red stains were splatter on his white shirt, and his eyes were unreadable. "All I wanted was tissue," his voice oddly calm." But don't worry... the rain never leave stains." He raised his knife, finishing his game.
Jada and Jada with matching ponytails and pink hairbows that swing with each hop, their black and white shoe hit the ground as if they wanted it to shake with their memories. Jade tossed the rock against the summer sidewalk. The rock navigated the faded chalk lines and lands on her favorite number, 6. She hopped as her pink hairbow swing back and forth. As she hops and called out the numbered squares, her footfalls and voice became the welcome song of summer. “One!” (hop). “Two!” (hop)… She hopped on every single square, almost losing her balance at 5. After skipping 6, she proceeds to 10. She clapped and jumped as she reached 10, safely… , turning around, and retraces her steps as I waited for her return. Laughter feels their belly as they rubbed their hands over their fresh matching scars that ran down the side of their pale face. Mom's eyes were like a mannequin lifeless and expressionless as she stood in her favorite spot by the bedroom window. We have never seen her smile or her eyes flickered with light since that night. We jumped over the hopscotch for hours it was the only way we felt alive even though every part of us was dead. And we know when the clock strikes twelve .... daddy will make us relive his game again.
© All Rights Reserved
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