A week I laid in wait.

Disappointed only by the silence.

Maybe what I encountered was strictly the will of fate.

I should not have jumped that fence.

I stood and stared as the man beat his wife.

I could only question what she did to deserve the bruises she had.

Then I saw the man beat her one last time and take her life.

Then the man saw me and I saw my dad.

A week I laid in wait of being found.

My dead eyes staring at my mother's.

A week I laid and no one spoke of our death, they did not dare make a sound.

All that was left of our dysfunctional family was my mother beating father and my scared to death little brother.