Waves Of My Childhood

• Stephanie Perera , Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2019

My dad never changed.
No matter how many promises he made, or how many times he said he was sorry, he never once changed. Even when the tears were running down our faces, even when the words cut too deep, burning into our souls, he never changed. Every time, my mum’s face melted into a river of tears, Jason and I clung onto her like frightened cubs.
“It’s ok, Jessica,” Mum would say to me. “Everything will be fine tomorrow- just go to bed.”
I still remember the horror that spiralled inside my blood in those moments.
Walking with water into the whispering air, I watched as my dad stormed out of the room, watched as my mother lay crying on the floor. I handed the water to my mum, whose tears were glimmering in the early rays.
She smiled at me. It hurt to see her smile on the outside, knowing how broken she was inside.
“Today’s a new day, so just focus on your studies and forget about the things at home. Think as if none of this ever happened,” she said.
I could never focus, knowing the horror that occurred inside my house.
The next day, I padded down the hallway. I heard the roars of two lions; my parents.
Not again. Standing there like a stone, I watched them fighting like animals.
How long will we have to live like this?
In an instant, it happened. My nightmare came true as my dad pushed my mum to the floor. I saw the red water appearing on her forehead as she tried to get up. Dripping in sweat, my heart jumped out of my chest.
“Go to you room, before you get injured!” he screamed, smashing the vase with white roses next to him. Mum arranged those this morning.
I lost myself.
“You can’t take control of me!” I screamed. He just laughed. I ran and dialled the number that would took away the careless, unwelcoming, hideous monster.
My childhood was taken away from me in that moment. I knew this was the last time I was going to see him. The cars lit up the night, red and blue lights driving away, like a fading moon in the sky. Curling up next to my mum and brother, we waited, knowing he was gone for good and we were safe.
Years later, walking inside the house, I still remember the unfortunate memories. I keep them safely inside my heart, even though they burn me, leaving only ashes. I carry these ashes, remembering the strength I’ve shown.
Life is an ocean. Waves wash dark times to our shores, but they wash away the pain just as easily. They make us crash, fall and break. However, we survive and we get back up. I learned that these waves no longer controlled me; instead, I am now in control of my fears. I am strong enough to face the world.