Lightning and thunder exploded across the sky, and tears fell on the path up to our house. I press my face against the window, treasuring the serene peace in my heart. My sister was playing with her doll, its lifeless eyes rolling in circles. Mother had given it to her before she died, exactly two years ago. Our life was never the same again.
I believe my father blames himself for her death, turning to the bottle as a way to cope. He isn't always abusive, but we have learned to stay clear of him at such times. He is always out late anyway, coming home after dark.
It was monsoon season; our river was threatening to overflow. Constant storming and days spent wishing we could play outside were the way of life.
Our house was comfy enough, though relatively small. However, with my dad out all day, we had the whole place to ourselves. I turned my face and made my way over to Madeline. She was three years younger than me, and her memories of her mom are few. She often begs me for stories, memorizing and repeating every detail uttered. I see my mom's spirit in her, a quiet strength behind those big blue eyes. I ruffle her thin blond strands, and she looks up at me, questioning.
"When will the rain stop and the sun come out?"
I always tell her, "Soon, very soon."
Days pass, and we entertain ourselves with chores, baking, and empty wishes. But every night, as we give thanks for our food, we stare at the open seat across from us. Dad. He's not even home on Sundays except for a quick nap and a nod of acknowledgment. Despite my sister's attempts to get a smile out of him, his face remains sad and hopeless. Even cruel and angry at times.
When he does talk to me, he'll say, "Son, take care of your sister. You have to be a man for her."
Then I'll reply, "Yes sir," as I think, "You're supposed to be the man of the house. I don't see you stepping up as you should." But I bite my tongue, nod, and watch as he leaves us once again.


Today is the first of October and my mother's birthday. My dad was nowhere to be seen, and my sister was still fast asleep. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, and I decided to escape. I needed some fresh air, and the rain had stopped. Pulling on my worn jacket, I tiptoed out the door, ensuring I did not wake anyone.
The air was cool, and I felt refreshed as the wind came in a gust of warm welcome. I stretched my arms out to offer the air a hug, and a smile played on my face. Freedom.
As I walked down the cobbled path of our town, Orion, I thought of my mom. She had been the apple of my father's eye, a dancer and a painter, and the bright sun ray on a cloudy day. I felt my eyes start to water as I blinked back tears. Today would be a celebration in her honor, not a funeral.
Turning left, I followed a strange, twisty path. Foxtails attached to my overalls as I went through the undergrowth and into the forest. Birds were chirping, and trees were rustling. Flies buzzed around my head, and I gazed around in wonder. My father had taken me hunting before, but it was back when my mom was there to encourage him.
"Father-son quality time," She would say to him, "Is of utmost importance."
He would smile, and wanting to please her, he would grab his gun, cuff my shoulder, and lead me out the door. I swallow deeply, holding back bitterness and resentment. We hadn't had a moment like that in years.
I followed the windy path to an empty clearing, where I fell to the ground in exasperation, rocking myself as hot tears streamed down my face. I squeezed my eyelids shut, my form going silent. There I stayed for hours, snot on my shirt and a puddle surrounding me. It wasn't until I finally headed back that I realized I had left my sister all alone on my dead mother's birthday.
I ran up the path to our house, muscles twitching and my face puffy. As I threw open the door, sweat trickling down my back, I looked around me in a panic.
"Madeline! Are you here? Where are you?" I screamed her name, rushing from one room to the next.
Just then, a hand clasped my shoulder as my father boomed, "Where were you? You left your sister alone all day, and I had to come home to a blubbering mess. Apologize this instant."
My eyes met Madeline's in sweet relief as I blinked, color returning to my face. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I just didn't think." I tried to move towards her, but my father's clasp was firm as a vise, keeping me in my place.
"You're going into the cellar. That will let you reflect on what you've done. And on today of all days." I could swear I heard a crack in his voice as he ended. That's when I realized I'd had just about enough.
I erupted, "You can't say anything. Ever since Mom died, you've ignored us and forced me to take your place. You weren't there for my birthday or for Madeline's. It was always just us. You should have been home. So don't punish me for being like you for just a few hours when you've taken two years!" I was fuming, but as the words rolled off my tongue, I felt relieved like I'd never had before. However, the moment was short-lived. As I twisted around to face him, I was shocked by the rage burning in his eyes. His mouth took a turn for the worse, and he grabbed my wrist with such force that my whole arm turned red. Madeline was crying again as Dad led me down the stairs. The last thing I saw before I got locked into darkness was a flash of lighting and a curtain of rain crashing down, shrouding the landscape in a veil of mist. Click.
It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the impending darkness, and I sat there, my knees to my chest, as I focused on my breathing. The rain was beating on my wooden prison, filling the cramped space with a cacophony of sound. To my horror, I noticed a trickling from the corner across from me. Walking over to see where the hole was coming from, I felt water surging around me. The water level was up to my ankles now, my body shivering from the cold. This wasn't good. I frantically started clawing at the wooden door, my fists pounding in desperation, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest.
"Dad! Help!" I screamed, the panic in my voice echoing off the damp walls. The water was up to my waist now. I didn't know how much time I had left. I frantically looked around for another way out, but there was none.
Just as I was about to give up, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps making their way over. The cellar door creaked open, and I gasped a sigh of relief. My dad's tall silhouette appeared, his strong arms reaching for me.
"Angel, hold on!" he shouted, his voice fierce and in control.
I was gasping for air as the water rose past my chest, threatening to swallow me whole. I felt his hands gripping mine, pulling me up with a surprising strength. My heart raced as he hauled me out of the rising flood, his grunts of effort mingling with my own strangled breaths. The water lapped at my chin as he hoisted me onto solid ground. My body convulsed with terror and relief as I scrambled up to our living room.
There, I lay shivering, and the last thing I remember is my sister wrapping me in a blanket. That, and my dad standing guard over me, a look of worry playing his features.
I was bed-ridden for days on end; illness wrecked my body. My heaving sobs mingled with my shaky exhales, the storm outside matching the tempest within me. I was scared to let my consciousness drift, afraid of the nightmares plaguing my mind. My dad never left my side except to cook me food and put my sister to bed.
Slowly, I felt my strength return, and color started to bloom on my face again. The rain had gone, and the sun was shining. Now, it was Madeline who told me stories, put flowers in my hair, and cared for me alongside Dad.
Months later, I discovered the cause of the flooding water. A water pipe had burst alongside the structure holding our house in place, and it had seeped through the integrity of our cellar walls. Insurance covered the mass damage to our home, and my dad took a stable job as a firefighter. He had become much more recurring in our life, even cracking a faint smile when my sister gave him a bouquet of flowers. It was far from happily ever after, but we were getting there, a step closer each day.









© Adaiah