Mom and dad had always argued for as long as I could remember.

Our home was situated in a wooded area that showed no signs of a nearby neighboor. Dad went out to work, making sure everything was locked before driving away while mom and I stayed in that space, passing the time with each other’s company.

In the peace and quite that would find us, I’d notice how I got my father’s eyes while the rest was that of my mother. Sometimes I’d catch her in tears while she stared at me to which she’d respond with

“Please don’t look at me”

I’d turn away then, hurt and hungry for answers.

I never knew why we weren’t allowed to see the what was beyond our walls. I only learned things through windows that were barred and the books dad provided to which mom would help along.

She’d point out plants and animals and the sun, moon, and the stars. I’d see a phantom of joy in her face during those moments before being devoured again by such deep sadness.

I tried to find cracks that would allow us to venture and feel the world outside but every attempt ended in failure. Home was not a shelter…it was a formidable prison.

One day I awoke to mom’s screams and upon descending the stairs I saw how she fought with all her might against the strong grip of my father. Her struggles were futile and she ended up being locked in the storage room.

Dad was fuming while he stompped away as my mother kept on screaming. My nervous feet carried me towards the door and upon placing my ear on it to hear better, mom uttered the words that would follow me to my grave.

“Gabe please let me go! I can’t do this anymore! Gabe please I’m your sister!”