Lost Childhood

It’s Friday night, after I have been toyed with in Baltimore streets with no help from people around (luckily I wasn’t physically harmed and I still have my belongings) , I have no desire to leave the house. Thinking that if I am in my temple, nothing can touch me. I won’t feel sad, I won’t get mad.

How wrong I was…

It’s Friday night and a couple was walking with their two kids. I don’t know how they were before their voice reached me. I would like to imagine a family walking home, joking around, maybe not the richest and the happiest family in the world, but you know, they do their best. Lady is wearing pink, gentleman blue. The kid each one holding is wearing the same color as them. I would like to think that they chose the clothes this afternoon knowing that they match, they laughed, before leaving the home they even took a photo with their bright smiles.

All of these would be my wishful thinking. The voices reached me had no trace of happiness. At first they were aware of the kids. They were holding on to them or paying attention that they are close by. As their voices increased with their rage, the kids were fading. And I watched the couple from my window, wanting to go out so I could remind them that they have kids. I watched the childhood of those kids going down the drain that is a few steps behind. They disappeared faster than they grew up. The kids just stood there, occasionally  reaching out to their parents to no avail. How lonely they must have felt, how hopeless… I wish I wasn’t scared to go out. I wish I could have windows that are not sealed and courage to call for them. I wish I could hold on to their childhoods for them. But I was all of that, could do none of that.

It wasn’t a simple argument, the one this couple had. It was obvious that they are going through a rough patch in life, or maybe they have seen nothing but rough patches. They had enough, but they have two kids or rather they had two kids I want to tell them. They are kids no more. No one can remain as a kid while watching their parents yell at each other from the top of their lungs. Who knows what their little minds think at that moment! Their entire world is falling apart with no safe ground for them to step on.

A person passing by with her kid stops, the argument continues, she takes something out of her bag and gives it to the lady. The argument continues for a little while more. The entire time the lady was waving her hand, maybe for cars to stop. After she takes what the passer by gave, she stops. their argument stops for a few seconds. They each grab the kid that is dressed the same color as them and walk away. They still have a few words to say, but the distance swallows their loud voices.

I move away from the window. Upset. Sitting in my temple, feeling sad for all the kids that have lost their childhoods. I hope most of you will find happiness somehow even if you couldn’t be a kid when you were a kid. And I am truly sorry for not being brave enough to save you all. I am still trying to save myself if you accept my excuse…

2 responses to “Lost Childhood”

  1. We often forget what we become , in a traumatic relationship. Those who do not have kids torcher themselves, those who do, torcher their kids as well, also leaving little room for their mental recovery.

    • Unfortunately!It becomes a vicious cycle. Kids grow up to be immature, then have kids … I understand it is not easy when a parent goes through tough times, yet it is hard to see them like this. Growing up in smaller communities where kids are taken care of everyone who is capable and not abusive seems better. Parents do need a break too, not from being a parent but from parenting. Why not build up a network where we all help kids?

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