I Can Rescue Me

I remember being about five years old and watching my dad brutally beat my pregnant mother.

I tried to protect her with everything in me, but failed. The light in her womb was irrevocably taken.

Not one time.

Several.

I remember wishing until my stomach burned, that someone would break in through that front door and bring rescue.

Several years later, I finally can.

It’s too late to rescue my sisters, brothers.

And I never even had a chance at rescuing my mother.

But today.

I can finally rescue me.