I can’t breathe

The lights… The TV’s flashing, vibrant colors burn into my eyes as I sit but inches from the screen. The shadows dancing on the walls from the dimly lit kitchen behind me. The headlights of cars passing by on the road outside… The sounds… The over the top noises the characters in the cartoon make as they run around the screen. An argument behind me two people, my parents, screaming at eachother. A sudden slapping before a whimper as the cars motor by the front of the apartment… The smells… Pizza, again, freshly microwaved. Alcohol, it permeates from the kitchen like a 16th century sailing ship. The faintest tinge of urine… The pain… The disappointment of having to eat pizza again, for the 5th time in a row. Anger, at a man that only seems to come home drunk. Fear... of that same man, and what he is capable of, and what he’s done to my mother.

I… can’t… breathe…

The lights… The light over my head in the hallway. The sudden inky blackness that consumes my entire vision. The darkness, interrupted by a bright flash as I can see the hallway light again… The sounds… The familiar shouting of parents, one shrill yell stands out amongst the many, “You can yell at me, you can hit me, whatever. But keep your filthy drunkard hands off my daughter!” Then, nothing, no sound whatsoever. That silence, broken, suddenly and loudly by an ear piercing bang… The smells… Alcohol, of course, as usual, when is there not a smell of alcohol when he’s here? A hint of something, like sulfur, like you just popped the first firework on the 4th of July. Piss, not a hint this time, it smells like a toilet… The pain… The pent up anger at him for what he does to my mother, it’s boiling over, I can't stop myself anymore! My head, fuck, my head, it hurts so much. Fear permeates through me as I start to gather what has happened.

I… CAN’T… BREATHE!…

The lights… Bright overhead fluorescents bathe the whole room in light. The sun still beams through the windows high up on the wall. The tiny red light of the camera off to the side… The sounds… The questions, so many questions, all for me to just say “Yes, she shot him.” The banging of the gavel making me jump. “You are sentenced to 20 years in prison…” The Smells… Sweat of old men, gathered together to pass down judgment on a young woman. Cheeto dust on the fingers of the social worker that’s taking care of me. For the first time in my life, I can’t smell alcohol… The pain… Confusion, I don’t understand, 20 years?! She was protecting me, protecting herself! The pain on my stomach from the man’s arm who dragged me out of the courtroom as I screamed. The lump in my throat that won’t go away, the tears keep flowing and I’m choking on it, coughing but it won’t leave, I can’t even scream anymore… Why does no one help me?.. Why does no one help my mom?!... Please… Help…

I

CANNOT

BREATHE!!!