It Was A Vow

A note, written on a pink index card, from a mind only twelve years old. It was a vow. In it, she promised God, the Heavens, the Earth, and Hell that she would kill her father if it ever happened again. A bold proclamation for a person so young. He had been hurting her mother, for longer than she could remember. Even before she was born. Even when her weight as his unborn child made her mother weak. How could he punch, smack, or stomp on the heart of an innocent ray of Sunshine? To lift a woman off her feet by her neck is to place an anchor on her soul. To shatter her spirit and her will to seek joy. Her will to love. There is no love in the curves of angry fists. The only love in a house like that lies in the unbreakable connection between a mother and her child. A love nourished by the fear of the father. So, as the child grows old, she will remember the note, written on a pink index card, hidden in a crack between her bedroom doorframe and the wall.