“Esmae?” Kaela asks, timidly
“Yes, baby girl?” I ask holding her hands as she cries because of the yelling going on in the home.
“Are Mommy and Daddy going to be alright?” The 4-year-old asks me.
“Yes, Baby girl. They are just mad at each other. But everything will be ok by tomorrow.” I smile at the little girl, lying to her knowing our parents aren’t having a good time.
“Go play. I’m going to go talk to them real quick, ok Baby, I’ll be back.” I leave her to play and walk into my parents’ bedroom. They’re close to each other, noses touching, and pure hate in their eyes.
“What are you guys fighting over now?” I ask and my parents step back from each other, a bit startled.
“Nothing Mae.” My father says and I walk up to them, getting really close.
“She heard you again. She was freaking crying, so stop the petty arguing!”
“She couldn’t have.” My Mother says glaring at me for breaking up their fighting.
“Oh get over yourself. She did so stop fighting, and just shut up,”
I storm out of the room and walk into mine.
Just get along already!
I hear my parents arguing again, then a slamming sound. Then it’s silent for a while. I have no clue what that was, probably, my mother throwing something hitting her lamp. I don’t know, but it’s a bit annoying. I can’t ever have a day of peace anymore.
I then walk outside to join Kaela after getting my shoes and hoodie on. It’s early September my shorts and hoodie a contrast that I like. Warm arms, and chilled air on my legs. My converse the same color as my shorts, black.
“Hey, Baby girl.” I smile slightly as she runs up to me, kicking her soccer ball.
“Mae? Is everything going to be ok?” she asks almost hopeful, I hug her and kiss the top of her head. I mumble a ‘yes’ to her and then let her go deciding that I want to play soccer. I take the 4-year-olds’ small soccer ball and kick it across our small back yard with her giggling chasing after it.
My parents don’t emerge from their bedroom for a long time. I sigh, why do I have such young parents? When they do finally join me and Kaela in the living room my Mother is in a hoodie and my father is holding her as if he lets go she will fall over, and break like a glass doll.