My beginning

  

  

   The memories of my beginning is like a puzzle. I have been patiently and cautiously collecting them and trying to fit them into place throughout my years. From the time i was very young, my mind decided to shatter my memories so I will not remember. Coping mechanism or avoidance? All i know is that i could not remember, until one day my first memory woke me up. 

  My earliest traumatic memory was watching my father force beer down my mothers’ throat. My mother down on the floor, her hands protecting her face. She wants no more of that poisonous medicine. My father’s right hand grabbing the back of her wavy hair and his left hand guiding that generic form of water from the glass bottle to her mouth. Glass; precise, time consuming, and an exquisite masterpiece only reflected my mother’s pain and my fear. Fear; my body shivered as I felt the inconspicuous unknown slither all around me. 

Time froze for 10 seconds. 

My mind was stuck on that scene. I couldn’t think back or think pass it. His malicious grin. Her sad eyes begging to stop. My mind was frozen, until I heard a faint whisper counting down – Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

I ran to her. My small, two year old, clumsy body ran to her. I don’t remember the words I screamed or yelled that caused him to stop. I don’t remember my father’s or my mother’s expression when I hid behind her. I don’t remember what emotion I felt after those ten seconds.

 I remember that I ran. 

I remember the picture that has been embedded in a perpetual frame within my mind. 

I remember the emotion within that ten second, frozen, time frame. 

…Fear.


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5 thoughts on “My beginning

  1. Wow! Totally agree with Ashu!brilliant narration! I was not at all in a mood to read anymore posts and was just glancing over this piece of writing and it completely got me reading it without a blink!

    Like

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