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a sound I'd not heard in many years, but I knew it's gruesome click at once. Strangely, my first thought was a fantasy where I pushed myself away from the table and simply left my parents' house to go home. For so many years, leaving was not an option. I had spent so much of my life feeling trapped, caged by my tormentor, that the notion of having the freedom to walk away was actually tantalizing. Then I realized it would be cruel to leave my mother at that moment, my mother who has been battling cancer for over a year; my mother who (inexplicably) has stayed with this man for nearly 48 years. So, as I had done for most of my life, I pushed my feelings down, bit my tongue, and continued my meal. This time, however, I was keenly aware of the heavy silence that enveloped us.

I wished him to keep quiet, which worked, and realized I was suddenly eating as if someone were about to take my food away from me. Like a blindfolded fool locked in a coat closet, I couldn't get out fast enough and could think of nothing else.

I left the house as if something were chasing me, and I imagine something was, for the demons that had been dormant so long had reared their ugly heads again this day, rising from the dead, if you will.

So, after a fairly uneventful afternoon, it finally felt like a real holiday.

Learn more about this author, Randi Miller.
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