Boy

There is a boy outside. I see his shadow against my wall. I shake my husband awake, allowing fear to narrate my thoughts.

He’s coming up our walk now. Did I remember to lock our doors?  My husband creeps down the steps and I sit on the landing, staring at the bedroom doors of my sleeping children. The doorbell rings and I nearly leap from my skin.  He’s standing under our harsh porch light.  I see the bloody eye, the bruise rising from his temple.

“We had an accident.  Phone’s busted.  My mom’s hurt real bad.  Could you please call 911?”

 

The Moral Mondays prompt is JUDGE NOT, LEST YOU BE JUDGED.