Lillian Blackwood

2009, UPPER EAST SIDE, MANHATTAN, NY.

I could hear the clinking of wine glasses downstairs, my mother's chuckles come next, followed by a man's laughter. I turned up the volume of my headset in irritation and fixed my eyes on the screen to focus on the game, my fingers flying across the controller, I was losing another round. I hear the front door open, as the noises feed into low murmurings. A few minutes passed, by the time I got my scores back up. I was starting to reek from the sweat, so I decided to shower as soon as I round up the game. I hear the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs in the distance, heading towards my parents bedroom. The house falls silent, finally. I felt a sense of relief as final credits rolled in just as I finished up the game, my eyes blurry from staring at the screen. I stretch my arms over my head, arching my back as I stand up, and head towards the bathroom to freshen up and call it a night.

Then, I heard it- a gunshot.

I felt a knot in my stomach. My heart racing I crept out of my room, my eyes fixed on the stairs leading down to the foyer as I ran down.

That's when I saw him, my father, holding a gun, his eyes wild, his fist twisted in a snarl. Mom was standing in front of him, her hand clutching her arm, blood sipping through her fingers. 

"Where is he?" he growled, his voice echoing off the walls 

"Please Nicholas don't do this" she begged, her voice trembling, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I felt a surge of fear as I realized what was happening. He raised the gun, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"I won't ask you again Jill. Where is he?!"

his eyes fixed on hers, flashing with anger. "You think I won't make you pay for what you've done?" he spat my mother

"You left me no choice!" she cried 

"Mom? Dad?" I whispered, my voice shaking.

"What's going on?"

Their heads turn towards my direction in unison, their gazes meeting mine, acknowledging my presence.

"You shouldn't be here" he replied, his eyes, cold, and hard. "You don't know what she's done. You don't understand" he shook his head, slowly, letting his hands drop back to his sides. 

A chill ran down my spine. He was wrong. I understand that he never loved my mother. I know he never wanted anything to do with me, or this family. I understand that he was always absent, on one business trip or the other, and even when he was around, they were always arguing. Although it doesn't justify my mother having an affair and bringing men into our home, what I could never understand was why she could never leave him and now it has cost her, her life.