“Mommy?”, I whisper quietly, tiptoeing through quiet, seemingly never ending floors downstairs to the front door. She was late again, came home and left in the late evening like she often did for the last few weeks. I once asked daddy why she wasn’t home more often but he only got angry, shouting at me for being nosy. I really wasn’t nosy! I just missed my Mommy. I run towards her and hug her, sobbing quietly while feeling giddy because she hugged me back. “I missed you, Mommy.”, I mumble. “Aw, I missed you too, honey.”, she says. But it doesn’t feel right. Mom smells strange, like other men, and her breath stinks of alcohol. Her clothes are wrinkled, her hair is undone and she smells strangely sweet.

“Where were you, Mommy?”, I ask her, feeling sad. “Why does it concern you? Mind your own business!”, she says coldly. “Today was my birthday party and you didn’t come.”, I whisper. I really hoped she would stay today. Only today, it doesn’t matter too much what she does on other days, but that she forgot my birthday… I whimper silently, lowering my head.

It’s one of those days, where she closed up and wouldn’t tell a single thing. I would ask nicely at first, trying to get her attention. Then I would cry because she was being mean and lastly, I would beg. Beg her to stay, to tell me she loves me. But she would only grimace and lock me in my room where I would cry myself to sleep. But it isn’t always like this. Sometimes she would come home and cuddle me the whole afternoon, we would bake, read and draw pictures and she would tell me that it’s not my fault that the other kids bully me. She would tell me that everything will be fine and that she’ll always be there for me. Although those days are rare, I always keep on going, just to savor the feeling of her warm embrace once again, even if everything in between is like hell.

I lower my head, quickly saying good night, not wanting to discuss today. It's pointless anyway. I sneak into my room afraid to wake dad, close the door and lock it from inside, something I grew accustomed to after daddy was especially angry. My heart feels heavy but I force myself to hold back the tears.

I pray for mom and dad to go back to normal. I pray for a better life, the life I had before, the affections I didn’t realize I needed so bad, I didn’t treasure as much as I wish I had.

I went to bed, falling asleep after a while, hearing mum and dad discuss something in their bedroom.

The next morning, Mommy was gone.