Even if your voice shakes

It was unusual that she was home this time of day, she was typically at work in the afternoons and I sensed this put my Father on edge, he liked routine. He was pacing around and then announced he was going out. My Mother was pottering around in their bedroom, music was playing in the house as it always was, I saw an opportunity and I ever so quietly closed the door. I went and sat on the bed next to her. My words had not yet been chosen, I did not really know what I was going to say, I was nervous. I knew I wanted to say something that would perhaps change the daily bath routine without disclosing full details. Who would have thought a 6 year old could be so diplomatic? 

I did not know it at the time but this day, this moment was about to become one that would shape who I am. I barely got four words and the door swung open, my Father standing there, intimidating at the best of times but looking larger and more frightening than when he left the house only minutes earlier. It felt like he cast a shadow over the whole room making it dark, I felt like I had been swallowed up. The words bellowing out of his mouth ' what's going on here, there are no secrets in this house?’ I needed to convince him now I never intended to tell her anything. My Mum thought he was just in a mood and continued doing what she was doing.

He walked through the kitchen down the side of the house, past the laundry. There I stood, quietly watching him I was sobbing at the back of the house. We made eye contact and I whispered over and over again ' I promise I didn't say anything ' "I promise I didn't say anything ' "I promise I didn't say anything'. It was almost like a chant I was whispering over and over in the desperation that he would be convinced I was telling the truth.

Our dog was happy to see him in the yard and started jumping up excitedly on my Father while I remained frozen cowering at the back of the house. Nero was a Doberman with funny lanky legs, we all loved his goofiness. My Father walked over to the garage and picked up a broom leaning against the door. The first blow Nero turned and started to run away, my Father was relentless and landed several blows which got him across the back, soon Nero was dragging his back legs through his own excrement up and down the yard. The yard that was scattered with toys, the wickets and the cricket bat laying on the ground, the slip and slide and the pole with the tennis ball attached, tether ball I think it is now called. It looked like the yard of a family yet this scene was worse than anything I could have ever imagined. Weaving in and out of the toys until my Father exhausted himself. He threw the broom down, looked over at me and walked out the side gate and down the driveway. I am certain I whimpered with every blow and I know I felt every one of them and felt responsible for each one.

This was my fault, I hurt Nero. Why did I try and say anything .There was now a new level of responsibility ingrained in me, to keep everybody safe? As I stood with my mouth open gasping every time he connected, I realized that it was my mouth that almost killed Nero. Nero was a nervous wreck; he recovered physically but cowered every time my Father walked past him, as did I. I felt like a puppy that had gone to the toilet inside the house, and was picked up by the scruff of the neck and my nose rubbed in my business and this giant screaming at me  ' Did you do this? Look at what you've done". Look at what I did. My tongue was virtually cut out that day. 

My Mother remembers the day, the day I wanted to tell her something. She remembers that day because it would never happen again. In an instant I became a closed book. She asked me later what I wanted to tell her " I don't remember'. She was raised in an abusive home, so angry people slamming doors and people crying were not alarm bells for what was taking place. There was only one person to blame. 

His message was read loud and clear. Like a lamb being led to slaughter from here on I would go quietly without making a sound. 

"Speak the truth even if your voice shakes"- Maggie Kuhn