I originally posted this story on "Beautifully Rooted" but since that site is ending, I didn't want to lose this post. I'm currently working on the sequel, though painful as it may be, it will answer the question about why I never, ever drink. If you didn't catch this the first time, I hope you'll take a few minutes to read it now...
"In the Night.
I wake in the night, not sure what
has awoken me. I lay there as still as I can waiting to hear what comes
next. It's not long before I know. It's happening again. Another
night of yelling, screaming and throwing things. I can hear every word
through the paper thin walls of our trailer. I roll over and hug myself
to the wall. Praying and hoping that my door doesn't open. Praying
that I won't be called to the witness stand as though our living room
had become a court of twisted law. I hear a muffled cry. It belongs to
one of my smaller siblings. They've managed to sneak to my room
undetected. They huddle in close and we both lay there pretending to
sleep in case the door should open suddenly.
It's funny the things that no one
has to teach you as a child that lives in a house of alcohol and
violence. You know not to speak up without ever being told. You know
not to volunteer information because it will be used against you or
someone else. You know to pretend to sleep even though the whole
neighborhood is awakened by what is happening. You know not to talk
about anything, ever.
I glance at the clock. It's
3:15am. I know that when I went to bed they were both asleep. Why does
this always happen in the dead of night? What demons shake them from
their slumber and rile them up to the point of screaming and throwing
and hitting?
The door opens wildly. My name is
yelled. I pretend to wake up with a start, rubbing my eyes at the light
shining in. My testimony is needed. Where did we go today? Who did
we see? How long were we there for? It doesn't matter what I say if it
doesn't go along with what my father wants to hear. If my testimony
doesn't line up with his theories it's thrown out of court immediately
and I'm accused of siding with the enemy, a conspirator in lewd and
unsavory behavior. I'm questioned to the point of tears. My mind
searches frantically for the "right" words and answers. What will calm
the demons? My efforts hit the wall like jello and drop to the floor.
There is no right answer but I'm still expected to talk.
Eventually frustration with my lack
of cooperation in his favor causes him to slam the door and leave me in
darkness once again. Screaming, breaking and door slamming continue
into the night until I can no longer keep my heavy eyes open.
I awake the next morning leery to
leave my room. I'm a shell of a human walking through the expectations
of my day. I'm a good student. I stay quiet and hidden at home as much
as possible. I don't have any dreams or expectations for my life past
running at full speed when I hit 18. My life is void of emotion, too
much pain for a child to endure has stripped me of every feeling in the
spectrum but fear, guilt and timidity. If there is a God he can't seem
to get through these paper thin walls.
I awake in the night, not sure what
has awoken me. I lay there in the silence trying to decide what it was
that stirred me. I hear a whimper from the other room and slide out of
bed to investigate. In the darkness I peer into the room that my two
boys share and find my youngest stirring from a bad dream. I nudge him
enough to bring him out of the dream and into the realization that he is
safe. He calms quickly with a hug and a nuzzle and before I leave the
room he is sleeping sweetly once again.
My heart is grateful that the
occasional bad dream is the only evil that vexes my boys. My heart is
full of love and thankfulness and peace. My children live the dreamy
childhood that was so far from my own. The ease and abundance of
blessings in my life is something that is brought forth in my list of
thanks on a daily basis. My boys have never been woken in the night to
face adult things. My boys have never been called to testify against a
parent. My boys don't know fear, or guilt or timidity.
My life now is the opposite of that
valley from long ago. Each day, each step, each ascent out of that dark
place has been painful. The whys and wheres and what fors all had to
be dealt with. The Lord has delivered me from a place that was barren
of love, grace and favor into a place where my heart can barely contain
my Joy. Slowly he has revealed to me where he was hidden in those days
and his plans for their use in my future.
