I look up to her eyes they are glossy. She is biting on her bottom lip to hold the tears from escaping her guiding sight. What is my father doing to my mother!? I hate seeing her this way. She looks so hurt, so heartbroken. This is not going to be a good week.

"I better go finish up in the kitchen." She gives me a lazy smile, stands to her feet then disappears in the mist of the kitchen. I sigh.

"You know Dale I've been suspecting the same thing." She half screamed from the kitchen.

"Thing? As in my snooping around?" I knew it.

"No silly I meant your father's ways. I thought that maybe he might be cheating on me with another woman."

"I'm blocking my ears now" she laughs it's such a beautiful sight even though I can't see it. From pain to laughter a fruitful result always notorious.

"Alright I'll stop. I still don't know how to take this! I mean your father might be harassed... I need to have a word with him when he gets back from work."

"That is if he gets back."

"True!!" We both laugh.

"Everything will be alright mama! I promise you that it'll all work out."

"Best make me believe it." I promise.

"I will. I have a headache all that stress has given me a bad headache. I am going to lie down."

"Okay my boy. If you need to talk I'm still here." She ensures me.

Couple minutes later I dose off.

"Rosa learn to mind your on damn business." My eyes snap as I hear yelling. My dad is back!

"Frank talk to me I'm your wife." I can feel the tears coming out from her eyes. My heart feels like it is about to come out of my chest.

"Rosa butt out okay!" I quickly rush to my door, open it slowly so no sounds can be heard, I peek. I see my father spitting on my mother. How long have this argument been going on?

Blood red eyes send bullets into my mother's eyes, this useless drunk! My mother collects herself.

"Don't you dare talk to me in that way." She points her index finger at him.

"Ronda I can talk to you however I wish to! Who are you to tell me 'the man' of the house" he does air quotes.  "To not talk to you as I want cause the last time I remember you were practically a maid in this house. You don't do anything except burn my pots. What you are good at is doing sexual adjustments." My mother's jaw has disappeared. Her tears are ripping apart.  Dead hearts lay on the cold floor including mine. I've been stabbed by a shiny silver knife I feel my bones cracking.

"Frank get out! Now!"

"Nah you leave. The last time I recall this was my house." My mother bravely pulls out the brown liquid glass bottle from his hand and smash it against the wall.

They gaze forcefully into each other almost like they are searching through them seeking a soul to pull out. They are both grasping for air, gritting their teeth, growing pink, sobbing and venge.

The sound of wind is the only thing I hear next. My mother fell with force coming from it. The kitchen pots and walls joined the chorus of pain adding an annoying sound none of us want to dwell in. Across her puffed pink cheeks painted purple flowers are displayed. I don't see Frank Mayfield I see Rage he has returned and that's nothing stopping him.

Nine years ago was an awful experience. I want to look forward!  The lovely potato smell my stomach grumbles to wont be allowed to be eaten with the bruises she bare, the pain has cut through our appetite leaving on a trail of blood on the tongue. The pain no one cares about has returned.

Rage's chest is beating at an abnormal pace. He has transformed to beast mode the monster of my nightmare has returned. He no longer cherishes her voice with softness. I don't want to back to that filthy cage of rage I had to live like an ambage where there was only my yellow minion with his head detached from his body by the drunk.

I almost forgot that I was peeking at them when my father passes by my bedroom door not even bothering himself to look behind to check if my mother is okay. He reeks of alcohol. 'Bang' you know that the show is over when the bedroom door closes and the knob turns right ensuring us that the door is locked.

I rush to my mother. I stumble on my feet and hit the cold floor, I lift and remind myself what's at stack. My mother has her hands covering her face and knees attached to her chest.

"Mama? Mama?" she doesn't answer. I lift her face from her knees. She unconscious.  "What should I do??"

I run to the kitchen take out a bowl from the cabinets fill it with water go to the bathroom to retrieve her face cloth. I knee before her. Dip half of the face cloth in the bowl and press it on her face. Nothing is happening. I scoop the liquid in one of my hand and splash it in her face. Her face responds to the cold water, I repeat the action. She's back.

"Mama get up!"

"No... it's fine Dale."

"No it's mama! Stand up." She obliges and I walk her to my room. "You can sleep in here for the night." She nods. She doesn't have it in her to get into another fight. I cover her up with my blue comforter then turn off the light switch.

"Peaceful dreams." I whisper and close the door behind me.

I go to the room down the hall and grab a blanket from from the closet. Go back to the livingroom and try to shut my mind from thinking about the battle that occurred in this room because this is where I'm going to spend my night. What a horrific Thursday night.