Suffer the Little Children
By - Lee Myers
Night of the Living Dead
“We need to talk.” My stepfather’s words sent shivers down my spine. The
police were leaving and my mother’s eyes were so full of anger I thought
they were going to pop right out of her head. “How could you tell them? How
could you do this to us?” They sent my sisters to bed and we went into the
living room. I’d gone to school that morning and asked to speak to the
counselor. At 14, I didn’t know what else to do. I told him everything.
I told him my mother had taken my older sister to the hospital the night
before. I told him she was okay, that it was only a cracked rib, but that my
mother had not told them what my stepfather did. I told him how in the heat
of an argument he had started the car, floored it with the driver’s side door
open and crushed my sister between the car door and our brick mailbox. I
told him how those several seconds after he swiped her with the car seemed
to stretch into infinity. I watched her fall to the pavement, ran outside and
when I got to her in the street I saw her just lying there glassy eyed and not
breathing. I thought she was dead, and then she finally gasped for air. I told
him how shocked I was it was only a cracked rib. I told him how my mother
had begged me not to tell. We called Child Protective Services and I told
them the same.
Spare the Rod
“The Bible says thou shall honor thy mother and father. You shouldn’t have
told. What were you thinking? Jesus said spare the rod and spoil the child.”
“Then he was wrong.” The words just popped out. It was so clear and so
obvious that I didn’t even think about it.
“How could you say that?” I stopped and thought about it for a moment. I
remembered all the times he had grabbed me by the throat and thrown me
against the wall. I remembered all the times he’d punched us, kicked us,
choked us. I remembered when I was smaller and my mother used a
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