By Aida Bode
I was only ten years old and almost alone. It’s weird to be that age and to be uneasy. I kept walking back and forth in the empty living room. At times I’d walk in the kitchen, check the sink for dishes that might have appeared out of thin air, and then out to the corridor to listen to the commotion that came from the room with the closed door. I heard her screams and felt hopeless.
For the first time in my life I prayed and said “Please, please, God, have grandpa come before he makes her screaming stop.”