Hey Daniel, my mom was waking me up when my sister and brother started turning in their sleep in our room. The blacked-out windows allowed sunlight to peek through the cracks.

Tommy left this morning around 4 am. My mom was preparing breakfast when there was a knock at the door. Despite the bars on the windows and the locked interior door pad, my mom could still open the window of the door through the bars. It was an old mobile home trailer, and it smelled like mothballs and roach poison.

On the walls, there were pictures of Tommy’s son and ex-wife, but none of my mom and Tommy except for the one he carried in his guitar case. It was the weekend, and he played at the bar down the street, so that’s where he is most likely at.

Usually, my mom would be with him, and we would be alone. However, my mom had a bruise on her face that she couldn’t cover up with makeup, so Tommy left her here and locked us in with no way out.

Knock! Knock!

I knew that knock. It had a rhythmic pattern, almost like a code knock. We knew it was Aunt Pam, Tommy’s sister. My mom opened the door, and there was an old, chubby woman with long black hair. She was wearing a yellow Sunday’s dress with a white hat and a shopping bag that dangled from her hips.

“He’s at it again, isn’t he, girl?” she said, noticing the bruises and the gash on my mom’s forehead.

“I need to take my children away from here. I don’t feel safe anymore. He’s taken it too far this time,” she said.

“Sweetie, he means well. I told you before you got with him how he was. The warning signs were there. You didn’t listen,” she said.

“You didn’t mention that he’s a psychopath and would rape me in front of my children,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I heard about it, and Tommy said he was very sorry. Although he couldn’t say it to you, he sent me over here to tell you that he is sorry,” she said, raising the shopping bag to give it to my mom.

“You mean he’s at your house?” my mom shouted.

“Yes, he says it would be better for him to stay there this weekend until he calms down,” she said.

Mom backed up and placed me on the floor as Aunt Pam ascended the stairs to deliver the bag to her. Mom reached for the bag through the bars and swiftly snatched Pam against the bar.

“Tell Tommy I’ll find a way out of here,” she screamed, “and when I do, I’ll slit his throat. You got that…!” She pushed Aunt Pam down the stairs, causing her to fall backward and her heels to slip off.

The water swirling around me felt cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the memories I was reliving with my mother. Each splash echoed the horrors of my childhood, merging with the present chaos. The cries of the child still clung to my consciousness, a reminder that I was not just a passive spectator in my own life—there was still time to act.

Suddenly, the vision of my youth shattered like glass, and I found myself back in the dimly lit cabin, the terrified child pressed against me. I blinked away the remnants of my haunting memories, focusing instead on the present. The door rattled violently, and I knew I had to escape.

“Hold on tight!” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. The child’s little arms tightened around my neck as I pushed against the door, praying it would yield.

With one determined shove, the door flew open, revealing a chaotic scene. Water poured in from every direction, and the cries of other passengers filled the air. The ship was in turmoil, and I could feel the panic rising like the tide. I stepped out into the hallway, bracing myself against the wall for support. Moments later a pounding of wood from a chair, echoed in the dark.

Mom shouted cursing loud and crying, my mom was scared, the power went off and there was no running water. It seemed like we were abandoned and far from help. My brother and my sister were crying. I was having trouble breathing, so I couldn’t cry. But I did see a figure and light that shine bright as I stared up at the ceiling.

The light begins to shift colors and their were other lights that bounced around trying to get on in the inside, there were shouts screams coming from my mom.

Miss stand back we getting you out of there. A muffled sound came from outside.

A big crash echoed through the Mobile home and the door was ripped off the trailer. My son my son he is having an asthma attack please…

You’re lucky we found you when we did. Do you know a Tommy Glitch that lives at this address.

After mom calm down she replied, I thought I did, he is the one that locked us in here, there was no way out, he left us in here to rot I hope you got that Son of a Bitch!

Mam We had an anonymous tip from address down the street where we found Tommy with his throat slit and his sister Pam is missing. Do you happen to know about that?

Mom stared soullessly into the darkness, not a clue she said.

Where do we go?” I thought to myself As the child whimpered, his voice trembling.

“We follow the light!” I shouted over the growing cacophony, pointing toward a flickering emergency exit sign at the end of the corridor. “That way!”

As we moved, the water continued to rise, swirling around our ankles. I could hear distant shouting, the sound of people trying to organize the evacuation. But my focus remained on the child. It was my duty to protect him, even if it meant risking my own life.

The hallway was littered with debris, but I maneuvered around it as best as I could, my heart racing as I felt the pressure of time closing in on us. Suddenly, a figure appeared from the walls shadows—a woman, drenched and panic-stricken, her hands clinging to the vents from the floor from

“Help! We’re trapped!” she cried, her eyes wide with terror.

I hesitated for a moment, torn between helping her and getting to safety. The child in my arms trembled, and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest.

“Stay close!” I instructed him, then turned to put my face to the floor where the lady was crying for help. Where are you?

“In the lounge! 3rd floor please hurry, The door is jammed, and we can’t get out.

How many are you?

Does it matter please, please come help us it’s just me and my Husband he is unconscious and I-I’m with child.

Without thinking, I nodded and made my way toward the lounge, the child still firmly in my grasp. As we approached, I could hear a faint wailing from within, the water is rising fast

““Stay behind me!” I ordered, setting the child down for a moment while I pulled on the door. It wouldn’t budge. The water that brushed against it kept it sealed. Then, I heard the pipes rattle, and it got steamy. I heard a loud bang from the other side, followed by screams that reached my ears. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils.

“No!” I yelled, shouting and banging on the door. Finally, it gave way and flew open. The current caught the door, causing it to slam against the wall. The woman fell into my arms. She was charred, and it was a flare from the pipes that had gotten her. She was still breathing, but barely. My heart started to ache again, and I panicked.

I stared into those baby blue eyes. It was November 26th, my birthday, and I was holding my first-ever nephew in my arms. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now. I thought I would die a thousand times over to ensure that this child remained safe with his uncle, Daniel.

I didn’t particularly like his father. He was cowardly and intellectually disabled, literally the man couldn’t help himself. But he worked and provided for his family. He did the best he could with what God had given him.

That was the first time I believe I felt jealous. I envied parents, especially new parents. I wanted a child, I wanted a baby at a very young age. I tried as soon as I could, but there was something different about me. I wanted a child, but I didn’t want to share him with another parent.

It nearly killed me when I got the news a fire claimed the life’s of two people that I loved and one I have never met because it wasn’t born yet.