My eyes teared up.

“What did he say to you?” My mother screamed.

“What adventures has he promised you now?” My aunt laughed.

“How’s his new whore?” My uncle pressured.

I crouched back into the corner of the room that was newly painted blue. I just get back from my Dad’s and this starts already? My thoughts were scrambling for answers as they continued to scream.

“I bet he bought you new things, maybe a new phone.”

“Did he promise you a better life?”

“What concerts are you going to?”

I could feel the wave of water begin to pour from my eyes. All I could think was how I wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up.

“Come on Marlena tell us. What has he sai-”

“That’s enough.”

My grandmother rose from her chair and walked over to me, pushing them away.

“Now you listen here, this poor little girl hasn’t done anything to any of you. Just ‘cause you don’t like her father doesn't mean you can scream at her.”

“But Mom she has done things-”, my mother started.

“Grace, I said enough,” she scolded. “Marlena come with me.”
I moved from the floor, and began to slowly walk through the three adults in front of me. I continued forward and felt their melting stares on the back of my head.
“Mar, please tell me, why do you take that every day?”
My heart was beating outside of my chest, “I don’t know, Gram.”
She had a certain walk about her. Gram is around 75 and had seen a lot of things in her lifetime that gave her this swagger. Her hunched back that forced her to use this little cane and in her face you could see all these cute wrinkles, but most important is the white line over her left eye.
“Marlena”, she spoke. “Have I ever told you how I got my scar?”
I thought for a moment. “No Gram, I don’t think you have.”
She sighed and reached for the back door. Her small frame fit perfectly through and she pointed at the top of my sledding hill.
“We’ll talk up there. I don’t want them to hear.”
I nodded and pressed up the hill.
“Have you ever wondered why you never met your grandfather?” My grandmother asked plopping on to the grass.
“I thought he died,” I spoke.
My Grandmother sighed.
“Marlena, I was your age when I met your grandfather.” She paused. “I thought he was the best thing in the world, he was so sweet. One day I was home sick from school, and he skipped his last three classes just to see me and make sure I was okay.” Her eyes lit up and she had this sparkle, but that all changed and she brought her hand to her heart. “But one day Marlena, he stopped being so nice.” Fear lined her eyes.
I sat there shaking, worrying. Did he hit her?
“High school was over, and when we were married he came home drunk.”
My blood ran cold.
Her eyes filled up and she couldn’t hold it back. The wave came down and she bawled. “He struck me Marlena, with the back of his hand. He called me a stupid b**** and beat me repeatedly with the closest thing to him. An old baseball bat I bought him for his birthday.”
My heart dropped.
“What did you do?” I said solemnly with the tears failing to be held back.
“There was nothing I could do at that point, I was on the floor covered in a puddle of my own blood.”
Why was she telling me this?
“You didn’t stay with him did you?”
She shrugged, “I had to, he was all I had. This was back in 1956 women didn’t have much of a chance on their own, and your uncle Billy was born I couldn’t go anywhere.” She sighed. “It wasn’t just a one-time thing. Every night when he came home from work he would beat me, call me names, and take his frustrations out on me.”
“I know it would have been hard but you could have lived with your mother.” I said with a whimper.
“I couldn’t, my mother loved him and I still loved him until I came home one day to see a horrible sight.” She paused. “He was beating your mother.”
I gasped.
“That’s when I had enough. That’s when I picked up the bat he beat me with countless times and hit him over the head with it.” She let a silent tear fall.
Her little body shook as she told me the next few gruesome details.
“He got so aggressive Marlena. He ran past and I thought he was leaving, but insted came at me with a knife. I tried to run but he was so much bigger, so much faster.” She took a slow painful breathe. “Then he swung.”
My whole body was shaking at this point. How could someone do this to my gram?
“The knife came down and I could feel it rip young soft skin and the blood started to pour down my left side.”
I took a harsh breath. “How did you get away?”
She looked at me with sad eyes.
“I kicked him, punched him, even bit him. Nothing worked. He just kept swinging, his strong arm kept coming down until I found the bat. I reached my hand far enough grabbed it and bam. He fell over… dead.” The water works came down again.
I stared at her for a moment. “Gram, mom is the youngest of all four kids, and uncle Billy was 17 when she was born. How old was mom?”
She stared at me, “She was 10.”
My whole body fell and I said with my mouth agape, “You put with that for 27 years.”
She placed her hands in her palms and slowly nodded. The tears came again.
“Gram, why did you tell me this?” I cried.
“Because Marlena, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you. I stood up for myself that day, and now it’s your turn. Don’t let them do that to you anymore, okay?” She stood up and stared at the purplish pink sky.
“Okay,” I said standing up; slightly smirking to myself.
We struggled down the high hill, to return to the house.