Once upon a time on a sunny day...

A memory: It's a dark one.
The sound of a body against metal pots and a wooden door. The sound of hands against flesh.  I stand in the kitchen watching.  I scream.  It's the first and last time a scream like that has ever passed my lips.  It's primal, one that comes from the soul.  It's full of rage and pain and confusion and love.  A scream pushed out of young lungs and searing a young throat. It's a scream of loss.
They don't hear me over their own yells and cries.
I go outside.
I'm surrounded by three red-headed sisters, sitting on green grass on a sunny day when the flashing lights pull up to my blue house, that's surrounded by flowers.
A nice man asks me if I'm ok. I say I am.
I go back inside.  It seems like a dungeon with the curtains drawn.  Shadows are on her face as she grips a pillow and makes herself as small as possible in the corner of the bed.
"Drugs or her," he asks while sitting on a chair at the end of the bed.  I stand between them in the gloom.
Ten minuets later she's gone.  She didn't even say goodbye.
Later that night he and I make pizza, it didn't taste the same.

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Years later, here I sit.  I want to scream.  I want to scream like that little girl did.  A scream that will echo back in time and let her know that it's all going to be ok.  But I can't.  Holding onto that scream is the only control I have.  If I let go, I'm so scared I 'll become the women I was once screaming for.