Behind Closed Doors

A glimpse into a different kind of family life.

A small child,
aged only four,
silently gets ready for the day.
Her daddy has long since left,
leaving her all alone.

She tries,
her very best,
to be as quiet as can be.
Lest the screaming begin,
for something she never did.

She slowly creeps,
down the hall,
a floorboard creaks.
She freezes,
waiting for it to begin.

She stares,
at the couch,
at the end of the hall.
Where the usual figure,
isn't there.

Her ears strain,
for any sound.
But all she can hear,
Is the thumping of her heart,
Trying to escape out of her chest.

She breathes deeply.
Relieved that she avoided
raising the ire,
of the figure on the couch.
If only for the moment.

She continues,
being more careful,
til she's standing
in the living room.
And there she sees.

She pauses,
to observe the figure,
sitting on the couch.
The part that couldn't be seen
from the hallway.

She observed,
the figure looking
out the window.
Her eyes glassy,
and uncomprehending

She knew,
the only reason for the quiet,
was no matter how much she called,
the figure wouldn't respond.
She couldn't hear or see her.

She was confused,
'Why can't mommy see or hear me?
Why does she always yell at me?
Even when I didn't do anything?
Why does she only lay or sit there?'

She wondered,
Why does she always leave the house at night?
Where does she go?
Is she like this because of me?
Did I do something wrong?

She moves,
the moment's passed.
She puts on her shoes,
and she tries to think
of a good lie to tell her friends.

They always ask,
why they aren't allowed over,
but she doesn't know why either.
She's only doing as her daddy
told her.

She glances,
at her motionless mother,
and is silently happy,
that her friends can't see.
Because it's scary.

She softly speaks,
"I'm going out to play,
I'll be back later,
I love you."
Even if you don't love me.

She pauses,
hoping ever so slightly
that her mommy would react
in a good way
for a change.

She looks,
her mother doesn't move.
Still staring emotionless
out the front window.
Her hope is crushed.

She reaches up,
and opens the door.
Careful to be as quiet as can be,
as to not disturb her mother's fragile peace.
And then she's free.
 
She smiles,
and walks out the door.
Ready to be
the person her friends
expect her to be.

Author's Note

I grew up in a small town, so it wasn't uncommon for me to be left at home alone with my undiagnosed mentally ill mother. And whenever I was alone with her, I generally was outside with the neighbourhood kids. If there was an emergency, my dad told me to go to the neighbours.

Yes my mom was diagnosed, but she was never a "normal" mother, I had to take care of her whenever I was with her as well as going through a lot of verbal abuse.

This is only but a glimpse of what she was like before the medication or whenever she went off it and let it get this bad.