Mason – Seven years old
I woke from a sound sleep.
Mom and Dad were arguing. Again. For the third time that week. I didn’t understand why they always argued. It made me sad. I just wanted everyone to be happy like me. I didn’t understand why Dad always got so mad. Mom said it was because he was an important man and with that came big responsibilities. I knew he had a big, important job, but I still didn’t understand.
Dad was one of those important people who were gone all the time. I didn’t really know him. He was my dad, but that was about it. We never did anything together. I hardly saw him. Mom was the one who was always there for me. So when they fought and I’d hear how sad she was, I’d always go to her.
I climbed out of bed, opened my bedroom door and quietly made my way to the hall. Their room was on the other side of the staircase. Normally, I wouldn’t hear them but when they argued, they always had their door open. I think it was Mom’s way of letting me know to stay away.
Hiding behind the wall where I always did, I waited for my dad to leave their room. I’d go to Mom and comfort her when he left. I hated hearing her cry. He always said bad things to her to make her cry, stuff I wasn’t allowed to repeat.
His voice echoed in the hallway and then I heard something break.
They usually argued about money. Mom liked to shop and sometimes she did too much of it and it would make Dad mad. But that time was different. He was talking about stuff I knew nothing about.
“You can’t keep doing this, John,” Mom pleaded. “I know what you’re hiding down there. I saw that file. You need to stop. You’re going to get caught. How could you do such a thing?”
I heard him laugh, a loud smacking sound, and then my mother’s soft cries.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, you little bitch? How many times have I told you to stay out of my fucking office!” he yelled.
There was quiet for a few moments and then he spoke again.
“You don’t need to worry about what I do or how I do it. I’ve never heard you complain about the money you spend. Where do you think that money comes from?”
“It’s not right, John. You’re a lawyer, for Christ’s sake. How could you do this? I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she cried. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here when I know what you’re doing.”
I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, my mother’s cries echoing in my head. I wished I could do something, but I couldn’t. She always told me that no matter what, I was to never intervene. She didn’t want me getting hurt. She said that when Dad got angry sometimes, he wasn’t the same Dad I knew and it scared her.
I rocked myself as I closed my eyes and covered my ears. Sometimes if I thought hard enough, I could pretend I lived somewhere else. Where Mom and Dad didn’t fight and where I was happy all the time, a place where a dad loved his son more than his work. I’d love it there, but I’d only go if I could take my mom.
I heard movement across the hall and unwrapped myself to peek around the corner. Mom walked out of the room with her hair a mess and black streaks running down her cheeks. Dad followed close behind.
“I’ll be back for Mason in the morning,” she said as she made her way to the stairs.
“The hell you will. You aren’t taking my son anywhere.” Then he laughed. “You really think I’d let you take my son? You’re nothing but a whore, Marcella. You’re nothing without me. Don’t forget where you came from.”
“Fuck you, John. I will be back for Mason. He’s my son, no matter what you say.”
Tears fell from my eyes as I watched Mom turn from Dad and head toward the stairs. She couldn’t leave me. I didn’t want to stay there if she was gone.
Climbing to my feet, I ran out of my hiding spot toward her.
“No, Mom. Don’t leave without me!” I yelled just as she took her first step down the stairs.
That was when I tripped on my pajama pants and fell toward her. I grabbed for her trying to break my fall, but as I was grabbing onto her shirt I heard a gasp.
My eyes stared on and widened as I saw her fall down the stairs. A scream burst through my lips as I watched in horror. She landed at the bottom in a heap, and all I could do was stare down at her lifeless body in shock. A puddle of blood grew by her head and I knew … I knew that’d be the last time I’d ever see my mom.
I looked toward Dad with tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to yell at him to help her, but words never left my lips. I’d just killed my mother. I was paralyzed with fear, scared, and hopeless. My heart was in a vise, being squeezed to the point I might pass out.
I sat up on my knees and stared down at her, praying she would move, show any sign of life, but there was nothing.