Through a Mother's Pain, The Child Cries

My mom came to get David from me. Through her tears, she told us to get ready for bed. I wanted to discuss with her what had just happened, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She said she was fine, but we needed to go to bed because Roy was already mad. I asked, “Is this the first time he has hit you, Mommy?” She wouldn’t answer any of my questions. Through the third floor skylight, I asked God, “What has my mother gotten us into? Please, God, send us back to my grandmother’s.” I was afraid and confused, and I didn’t feel safe. I had never seen a father act in this capacity before, so I didn’t know what to think. Roy seemed like a nice guy, and my mother appeared to be happy around him. I just wanted to know if this was the first time he had gotten this mad about something, and if my mother had seen him like this before. Corrine hugged me and started to cry. “I’m scared,” she said. “I am too, but we will be all right. Don’t worry. Come get in bed with me and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we will figure something out.” Corrine fell asleep in my arms, but I stayed awake for hours wondering what my mother was going to do. The next day, I was sure that my mother was going to pack our things and head back to my grandmother’s house. I was amazed that she behaved as normal. I thought if a man hit you, you would leave him. I didn’t know that you would stay and cook breakfast the next morning, kiss him goodbye when he left for work, and ask someone to gather the dirty clothes so you could wash them. I walked around all day waiting for an explanation about why we were still there.