Tabula Rasa

It was the third time this month. I looked over at Mother and her shoulders sank with a sigh, realising that he had broken his promise once more. Mother gripped her cane and slowly shuffled towards the front door, brushing past me, pushing me back down onto the sofa. She muttered something under her breath I didn’t quite hear. The pummelling fists were more fervent than usual, and an eerie chill ran down the length of my spine, something I had never experienced before. Mother picked up speed and urgently threw open the door. I set the television to mute and strained to hear the tense mumbles being exchanged a few feet away. This time, I couldn’t hear him cursing at the Officers, like he usually does. For a while it was silent, then a heavy thud, the clattering of Mother’s cane, and all at once the most gut-wrenching wail I had ever felt invade my tiny ears. I ran out of the living room, saw Mother curled in a ball, with two Officers standing above her. I got there just in time to hear one of them say, “There was nothing we could do to slow him down.”