“Mommy!” I screamed as he hurt her over and over with the knife he brought. I knife he used to stab her and sliced her face and arms until she couldn’t hold them up to defend herself, or me.
He was her boyfriend. He called himself Dave. I never liked him. I thought he was mean and me I’m just five and he treated me like garbage; something that was ignored until I made a fuss. Then he would yell at me to shut up.
I thought she had broken up with him. I thought she told him never to come back. I thought we were finally safe from Dave. I was wrong. We were wrong.
He stabbed me and then she tried shielding me from his knife. I don’t know why he came back but he did. I don’t understand why he looked at us the way he did. I laid in my own blood and watched Mommy get stabbed over and over again. He finally stopped. He finally stopped hurting Mommy. She laid there staring back at me but she isn’t moving.
I vaguely remember that he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the garage where Mommy’s car was parked. Why? Why is he doing this? He laid me beside him and started the car. I fell asleep. Mommy’s in heaven and I’ll join her soon. I know I will.
“It’s okay honey, Daddy is here. You get better,” I vaguely heard Daddy’s voice tell me in words that choked with sadness. Daddy was crying over me. I woke up and saw where I was. I saw I was in a hospital. Did they bring Mommy too? Will I see her again?