Fading

As I paced around the guestroom, listening to Hal’s snoring through the wall, I felt transported in time.  Once more I stood in the hallway, a little girl, peeking through the open door as my mother sat on the edge of her bed.  The shades were pulled down, and her body hunched over, as she cried for the drunken husband who had hit her once again.  Watching this scene time and again had taught me one thing: make sure to close the door all of the way.  Only then did I sit on the edge of the bed, and cry for the husband who had forced me to leave him.