• I never heard stealth steps approach the house through the darkness. I never heard the key slowly turn in the lock. I never heard the knob turn or the door creak slowly open. I never heard the soft steps come into the house and tip toe silently down the hallway. I never heard the door open exposing my room to them.

    I did hear their voice call me out of my sleep in the softest whisper.

    She stood over me in the darkness and I could hardly recognize my own mother’s face. It was her voice, that sweet, low, caring voice only a child would know that woke me from my dreams. I was shocked to see her since I had not seen her in many weeks.

    “Mama? Is that really you? Did you come for me? Tell me you came for me!”

    “Hush child. You don’t want to wake your father, do you? We can’t have him knowing that I was here. You know what he can do.”

    My father scared me. He had a way about him that was unknown to any man but himself. It was his ways that caused my mother to leave one night. She left with almost nothing. I was one of the things she left behind. I have cried almost every night since she left. I can never cry in the gaze of my father because his punishment would only cause me to cry more.

    But tonight was the night. She was here and she was going to take me away with her.

    “Mama, where are you taking me to? Is it beautiful? Tell me it is beautiful.”

    “My darling child, I have bad news for you. I can’t take you quite yet. The place isn’t fit for a blooming child like yourself. It will be soon. I swear it to you; I’ll get you there soon. I just wanted to come back and see my dear child and make sure you were getting along fine. It won’t be long. I must go now before he wakes and finds me here. Don’t ever speak of me being here. You understand don’t you?”

    I nodded in sorrow and my mother turned. She left my room just as quietly as she came in. I lay in my bed and once again the tears emerged. How much longer would I have to stay here? I wanted to leave this house of tears once and for all. I could not be sure if my mother’s arrival meant my departure had grown closer or farther away. I could never tell with my mother.

    And so I waited for her return signaling that I could leave this house of tears forever. Patiently, patiently, less patiently, and none. I lay there forever waiting.