Like any normal family, we were in the kitchen helping Mom prepare dinner. I was making salad, my younger brother was placing the plates on the table, and Mom was bringing the food out of the oven. Dad was watching TV after a tiring day at work. It was basically our recent daily routine. Same crap everyday. We all knew what we had to do without any actual talking. I couldn’t wait for all this to finish. But when and how? I had no idea.
Mom checked around the table and made sure that everything was in its right place. She looked at me and my brother, and we knew what it meant. To sit down before Dad joined us. Everything was ready, then she slowly walked to the living room and as always, gestured to my dad that dinner was ready. Without any delay, he followed her back to the kitchen. My brother and I were waiting for them to join us. Honestly, neither of us was looking forward to being on the same table with Dad. But we had to follow the rules. He referred to this time as quality time.
Things weren’t always that bad. I used to have a normal life, heck it was a good life. In the other house, we shared joy and laughed together. The atmosphere from my other house was quite different from how it’d been recently. I also had friends, and I was allowed to go out with them. I hadn’t known what I had until I found myself in this new, boring as hell house. Here, it was gloomy and so quiet. Actually, dinner was the only time we were spending with each other. But as I said, none of us was excited about it anyway.
On the dinner table, we were all awkwardly looking at each other. Another rule that was set by my dad was that we weren’t allowed to start eating before him. He looked at us with his creepy looks one by one before he decided it was time to eat. Dad first grabbed a piece of bread and dipped it in his soup. He was always taking the best sliced bread.
Everyday for the last few months we had dined in an awkward silence, but today was different because this asshole who’d acted like my dad broke the awkward silence by coughing. But it wasn’t just any kind of coughing. Within seconds his face turned bluish purple. I looked at my brother, he was as shocked as me. We were dumbstruck with this view but couldn’t move from our seats. Together, my so-called brother and I instantly looked at our so-called mother and knew what she’d done. She sat there emotionless. Looking at the man who was dying before our eyes. He tried to reach out with his big hands to Mom, but failed to move them. He knew what was happening too. He seemed angry, but couldn’t beat any of us like he’d used to. He was powerless. Not long after, everything finished. This huge man whom I thought nothing would affect died because of something invisible. Our so-called mother had finally saved us from this prison. She finally poisoned our captor. The man who’d taken us from our families.
We both broke into tears and the kind lady walked to us from her seat and embraced us for the first time ever. She also started sobbing. Everything was going to be okay. We were free, but these memories would forever haunt us. Traumatized for years to come, if not forever.
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