FEAR

I was nine years old when dad killed mom and my brother, Ricky.  I don’t remember much else about my parents, especially dad, but I do remember the night I embraced fear.  I think I blocked out most of that part of my life.  But I do remember he liked to drink.  A lot. And mom was deathly afraid of him.  I know my brother and I were.

We lived in an old rundown cabin way out in the woods.  The only way to get there was a single lane dirt road.  That cabin was surrounded by the woods.  My brother and I used to play in the woods.  Looking back now, I can how foolishly dangerous that was.  But the woods was our safe haven from dad, and there was nothing to fear out there in the woods.

Dad was mean.  Very mean.  In my room, way in the back of the closet was a small door.  That door opened to underneath the cabin.  I used to crawl out that door when dad would have one of he drunken rages, to get away from him.  A few times, I took my brother with me.  We would then hide in the forest until dad passed out.  He would wake up and not remember  what he had done when he caught one of us kids.  Don’t ask what he did those few times he did catch one of us.  I do vaguely remember mom taking most of dad’s drunken rage.  I believe she did try to protect us in her own way.  I wish now she had gotten away from dad, but I don’t think she knew how.

One night, I heard a gunshot.  I ran into my parent’s bedroom, fearful of what had happened to mom and my brother.  “Mommy.  Ricky.”  I remembered calling out to mom and my brother.  My voice was louder than it ever had been.  The room was empty, no one was there.  Everybody were gone.  I was sure the gunshot had come from the bedroom.  Then I noticed that the window was open. Perhaps the gunshot had come from outside.  I walked to the window and looked outside.

I could see dad holding a shovel in his hand.  Mom and Ricky were laying on the ground.  Dad started digging a hole.  What had he done?  Dad must have heard me standing at the window, because he stopped digging long enough to look at the window.   I will never forget the look in dad's eyes as he dropped the shovel and started quickly walking toward the house.

I  ran out of the bedroom and down the down the hall to my hiding place, praying he didn’t catch me.  All I knew was dad wouldn’t be able to find me once I was through that door.  Deep down, I knew if dad found me, I would be laying there on the ground next to mom and Ricky.  There was now no doubt in my mind that the gunshot had come from dad.

I barely made it through the door, when I heard dad throwing things around my room as he searched for me.  I could hear his angry steps as he stomped all around my room, before storming out and back up the hallway, first to Ricky’s room, then the living room.  I couldn’t stay hidden under the house.  I had to get into the woods, where I could safely had from his rage. Crawling out from under the house, I ran into the woods, circling around to where I could see what he was going to do to mom and Ricky. 

The image of what I saw dad do to mom and Ricky will stay with me for the rest of my life.  I watched, helpless to do anything to help mom and my brother as dad dug deep holes into the ground before pushing mom and Ricky inside.  Then dad shoveled dirt on top of them.

When dad finished burying mom and Ricky, he threw the shovel down and walked back into the house.  I didn’t know what to do or where to go.  It was to far for me to walk into town for help.  I wasn't even sure who to go to.  I didn’t trust the police.  It seemed they never did anything when mom went to the police to file a complaint against dad.  I didn’t think they would do anything now.  I remember feeling so alone. That loneliness would stay with me for years.  Sometimes it comes back.  Today is one of those times. 

I suddenly could smell smoke.  Something was burning. Then I saw the flames as the cabin started to burn.  Then I heard another gunshot.  From where I was hiding, I watched my life go up in flames.  Someone must have seen the flames and called for the fire department, because from a distance I heard sirens.  They would get to the cabin to late.  I waited until the fire department and the police showed up, before coming out of my hiding place.  I was scared of what they might do to me.

The next few days was nothing but a blur as I was asked many questions by many people, and I was shuttled from place to place.  I don’t think anybody wanted me once they heard the horrible truth about what I had seen my father do to mom and Ricky.  I heard one woman who had been taking care of me for a few days tell someone that I must be crazy, because I didn’t cry after witnessing losing my entire family in one night.  Honestly, I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t know it then, but it would be years before I figured out that all I wanted to know was I was safe. Once I figured that out, I cried an endless river of tears.  But those tears didn’t come until someone told me I was safe with them. That someone later became mom and dad to me.