3 chapter two | old memories

I've been driving for about a week and It's quiet. I'm left with my thoughts. Which are not pretty? I try to keep my thoughts positive but The darkest part of my mind sucks me in. Thoughts hide, waiting for their time to attack and when the stampede of heavy thoughts begins they will not stop for hours. They will win. They will destroy everything in their path. This is what I deal with; A private war. One I don't even know how to fight.

Flashes of images appear before my eyes. I try to turn up the music hoping to shut them out but it doesn't seem to work. I cringe as certain memories make their way to the top.

A terrible feeling of dread follows and I begin to think that this was all my fault, all the terrible things that happened yesterday were because of me. And now I am making them worse. Now I'm just running from my problems but maybe I can't run from all of them, because maybe I'm the real problem. What was I thinking? I'm not good enough to deserve a second chance.

Please, please don't do this! Not again! I cannot take another night. I cry while I sit on the floor leaning against my door. I can hear her. Wailing. She's crying for nothing. I know this because she does not feel anymore. Years of the bottle have numbed her senses. She screams. I know she probably fell but I can't bring myself to go check on her. Again.

Please stop, if he comes home early again he'll be livid. His fists will be hard and bloodthirsty. It will be an even longer night. And when her cries are silenced, he will come up here. He'll probably knock. Because it's the polite thing to do, but there will be nothing polite about his intentions. He will yell. He will spit. He will throw a lamp or maybe glass where -if I am too slow- my head will be. He will grab my hair and throw me into the wall- what has become his signature move. Then when the blood has dried and the bruises are iced he will tell us how he was out of line, like he could see or even find the line, even if he tried. He will apologize. And my mom will pour another glass.

So I climb up off the ground and lay down in bed. Cover my ears with a pillow and pray he is out late tonight.

I can feel my chest tighten as the memories flash by. I close my eyes and make a fist until my nails dig into my palm. Don't let your mind wander. A wave of tears hit me but I wipe them away and bite my lip.