My Sweetest

Dear Reader, before you start this story, I want to warn you that it contains some mature content that could be disturbing. If you are okay with that, I hope you enjoy it.

Eleven years ago

"Supper is ready," my mum shouted. I placed my old teddy bear on the sofa and entered the kitchen. She took a plate and filled it with a generous amount of pasta.

"Do you want something on your pasta?" she asked. I shook my head. I didn’t understand why she asked that question when we knew there was nothing in the fridge to add. Even if the pasta was plain, I was happy because this was one of the rare evenings when my mum could provide me with something to eat. Usually, I went to bed with an empty stomach, but at least this time, I could fill it and avoid the torment of hunger.

Mum handed me a fork, and I was eager to start eating. Just as I was about to bite, the door slammed open. The sudden noise startled me, causing the fork, with a small amount of food on it, to fly out of my hand and land on the floor. I didn’t know what hurt me more—seeing my dad storm into the room, obviously angry, or the precious food that had now gotten dirty on the floor.

"You dirty bitch!" he shouted, and the smell of alcohol began to fill the air. "How dare you cheat on me? Is this what I keep you for? How could you let another man touch you?" He moved closer, and seeing my mum’s terrified face, I understood what she wanted me to do. I slipped off the chair and hid under the table.

From the noises, I knew my father had hit my mother. “Let me go! I don’t want you anymore. I have found someone who will care for us!” she shouts. However, it only seems to make Dad furious.

"What? Do you think you can leave me?" he shouts, his voice rising even louder as he strikes her again. My heart races as the tablecloth lifts, revealing my father's red eyes. He forces me out of my hiding place.

"What the hell are you doing? Let her go!" my mum shouts. Instead of obeying her, Dad grips her arm as well.

"Where are you taking us?" she asks, her expression filled with fear.

"I will take you far from here, where that bastard won't find you," he shouts as he drags us along. He puts me in the back seat of his old car first and then forces my mother to sit in the front. As he circles to get in, my mom turns back and tells me to move behind Dad's seat and fasten my seatbelt. I do as she says, watching her pull her phone out of her pocket to write a message quickly.

Dad acted swiftly. When he noticed what Mum was doing, he swatted the phone out of her hand. It landed in the back seat next to me. I reached for it, but Dad stepped on the gas pedal, accelerating rapidly, and the phone slipped beneath the seat.

"Stop the car now!" Mum shouted at Dad, but instead, he hit her again.

"Shut up, bitch, or I will kick you out of the car on the highway." He shouted at her as he briefly lost control of the car, causing us to collide with a rubbish bin at the side of the road.

"Stop the car!" Mum shouted again. "You're drunk! You can't drive like this!"

It felt as if Dad didn’t hear her at all. I could sense the car speeding up, and fear gripped me. I reached for Mum’s phone, but as the car swerved, it slipped away.

“Where are you going? Are you out of your mind?” my mum yelled again, her voice filled with panic. “We’re heading for the freeway. Stop the car now!”

"Shut up, Bich!" my dad shouted at her once more, hitting her harder this time, like my mum's head hit the window.

I feel the car moving faster, and since Dad can't keep it straight, I hear other cars honking at us, which makes me afraid. I remember watching a movie about roller coasters and feeling so excited that I asked Mum to take me to one. Mum said we didn't have the money for that, but she promised to take me when possible. As I fear the car's erratic movements, I think about telling Mum later that I've lost interest and would like to skip the roller coaster idea.

Dad drives even faster, and Mum begins to cry. She begs him to stop on the side of the road and let us out, but Dad doesn't listen. I grab the phone again, but my arms are too short to reach it. I know what could help me. Even though Mum had told me to fasten my seatbelt, and I usually obey her, I think that in this terrifying moment, I could be a hero if I could get that phone. As my hand moves to the clip, ready to unbuckle it, Dad loses control of the car. Mum screams while Dad struggles to keep the car on the road, and strangely, he doesn't notice the honking truck ahead, trying to warn us that we are getting too close.

“Damn!” Dad screams as we approach the truck, then crash into it.

I remember watching a TV show discussing gravity, which was the moment I truly experienced it. The car flies into the air, but it has to hit the ground eventually. When it does, that isn’t the end. As the car rolls off the road, I feel the seatbelt digging into my shoulder, restricting my movement. However, I am too small for the belt to hold me securely. At one point, when the vehicle is upside down during the roll, I slip out of its grip. It feels like it takes forever for the car to come to a stop, but eventually, it does. As I lie on the floor between the front and back seats, I feel a terrible pain in my leg.

“Mummy!” I call for the only parent I know who cares about me, but there is no answer. Both Dad and Mum are quiet. Ever since we left home, I wanted to be silent, but I didn’t mean this kind of silence.