mother

She hitches her book bag more securely on her shoulder. Taking a quick glance behind her she notices her brother is dawdling. She can't blame him, who would be in a hurry to get to their house.1

"Hurry." she says behind her. "we can't be late." You know how he gets." She says. Her brother sighs loudly and runs to catch up.2

If they miss dad's phone call there will be a price to pay. He calls everyday to make sure they made it home and to dish out each days chores. She'll do anything to keep him happy. They never know when a dad storm may erupt.3

Six months ago he brought them here from the home. They were actually happy at the new home. "Aunt" Mary and "uncle" Nick were like the grandparents they never had. She missed them and their cozy kitchen.4

Dad's place was an unpredictable maze of emotion. She did her best to keep him happy. He was volatile, especially if he started drinking. More often than not he took things out on the baby. 5

Even though there were only 18 months between she and her brother that's how she thought of him. She couldn't understand why dad did this. How could anyone want to hurt the baby? He was beautiful where she was not. He had big blue eyes and inky black hair. She looked like a mouse. 6

Finally they arrived at the house. As usual she said a prayer. "Please God let her be there today." She opens the door waiting to catch a wisp of sweet smelling perfume. Wanting to here the click of heel upon the floor. 7

Nothing but silence greets her. Once again she is motherless.8

No feminine voice yells out "How was your day."  No perfumed arms gather them in for a daily hug and kiss. 9

She sets her book bag on the floor and waits for the call. She'll then get her daily instructions as to what to start for dinner and what needs doing in the home. Then her father will hang up without even an "I love you." Once again she sighs.10

It will take her many years before she realizes that a mother did exist in her home. The mother was her.11