Here I am again, in the only safe place I know, the room where my brother and I share a twin bed that's been divided between us. He sleeps on the hard, wooden box spring and I, the lucky one, get the worn mattress. The warmth of the blankets and the security of my overstuffed pillow have always made me feel safe. Why then, is my heart beating out of control? My brother is doing his best trying to lull me to sleep again by using the grinding noise he makes with his teeth. This familiar sound usually assists the Sandman, but tonight, like last night, neither is working. As I lie here, unable to regulate my beating heart, my adrenalin level begins to rise.
As my heart manipulates its way into my throat, I hear a car screech to a halt in front of my house. Without warning, the inevitable happens again as the gun shots ring out, ripping through the night, cracking like thunder in an electric storm. "Run" my head screams as I leap to my feet obeying the command. Scrunched back behind the refrigerator, I close my eyes and pray. "Oh God, please don't let me die tonight." Standing motionless, with all senses on full alert, I try not to breath as I hear the car speed away. "Are they really gone?" I ask myself while at the same time trying to swallow my heart. The refrigerator becomes my lifeline as its monotonous humming soothes my paralyzed body. Hearing my mother's voice through my cluttered thoughts, I contemplate answering her. "Is she really worried about me this time?" I wonder. The passing minutes feel like hours and give my paralyzed body a chance to regain some feeling. "Melanie," she calls, as I respond with a weak whimper. I can sense her impatience as she reaches around behind the fridge, grabs my hand, and guides me back to my room. Walking in my home, I hear the door close behind me and feel as if the door to her heart has closed at the same time. Looking over at my brother still asleep reminds me that I once was able to sleep through all the commotion. As I am drawn to my corner of the room, I plop down on my mattress and think back on how many times I've awakened to such atrocities. "Why me?" I ask myself again. Tonight, I decide there is no answer, only a solution, escape....from the truth.
Not remembering when I fell asleep, I awaken at dawn, still hearing the midnight nightmare whispering in my ears. As I listen to the voice, the events of the past evening flood my mind. I hear the popping of the gun over and over and over. Shaking off the insecurities, I fumble through my closet and dress quickly. Slipping my feet into my sandals, I stand up and realize that I need to begin packing. Opening my brother's duffel bag, a flood of memories wash over me. I can smell the past baseball games he never played in, the dirt from the wheels of his skate board he often fell from, the remnants of school lunches......I push these memories to the back of my mind and back inside the duffel. I've made my decision; there's no turning back now. Finishing this task in record time, I take a deep breath knowing the next step will be much harder.
I know where the money is kept, but the room is strictly forbidden. "If you're leaving, why should this matter?" my inner voice points out. It gives me the courage I need to open the door and head down the hall. I know they won't be awake until this afternoon, so I creep into the room where the "family business" generates its product. I look around, viewing all the sights. I know what it's all used for, but inside I don't want to believe this happens in my house. There is a scale in the corner with small weights in one pan and the crystal white powder in the other. Occupying the opposite corner is a table with a gigantic mirror sitting on top. "This must be where it's all sampled," I mutter quietly. Picking up a large suitcase by the door, I peer inside with curiosity. Realizing it's full of the packaged product, I try not to disturb the contents. Continuing my search, I finally see what I am looking for peeking out from under the table. Many times, the contents of this blue coffee can has bought my lunch at school or paid for that pair of needed shoes. Feeling guilty, I decide just to borrow $20.00, knowing it will never be missed. Taking one last look at the forbidden room, I close my eyes and close the door, vowing never to submit to such temptations, not now nor as an adult.
With the duffel bag of memories slung over my shoulder, I close the front door behind me. Feeling the new morning sunlight warm my face, I close my eyes and dream, "Yes this is a new morning, and I am beginning a new life." As the yellow cab creeps its way toward me, I turn back for one last look. Viewing the house from the outside, one would never think it possible that such dealings could take place on the inside. Climbing into the taxi, I feel tears of happiness and sadness stream down my cheeks. The happy tears are for all the fond memories of my brother and me. The sad tears are for all the hell we've been through. I know in my heart that he will be with me soon, but it must be his decision. As the cab pulls away from the curb, I feel no sense of regret. This knowledge will guide me through life, beyond the harsh yesterdays and will give me the confidence to make it through tomorrow.