The Devil’s Apprentice

There I was, in the sitting room with my family. The room was warm and cozy, and the smell of a delicious soup filled the air. My dad was sitting in the armchair, looking at the TV which was on the floor. The armchair was the main thing in our small living room. It had a lot of dents from where my dad had put his elbows over the years, and he had spent a lot of time there. Grandma was also present in the living room. Grandma didn't live with us like other Grandmas do, she lived in her late husband's house, Grandpa. Mum tried convincing her to come stay with us so life will be easier for her but all to no avail. Grandma wasn't really paying attention to what dad was watching, she just stared at the Tv as if it was blank. One could say Grandma was lost in thoughts. Mum was not in the sitting room; she was busy preparing our meal in our small but convenient kitchen. Sister Harper and Brother James were also not present, they both travelled to the city to visit one of my mum's relatives and with the calls we had received from them, I could tell that they were having fun. Our vicinity wasn't very pleasant, we suffered from; bad roads, bad drainage systems, bad network reception, low water supply and poor power supply. The people in our neighborhood had sent several mails asking for the government to come to our aid but all to no avail. Mum walked into the sitting room with our meal, Immediately she stepped into the room, I heard a loud noise of uncountable steel falling and crashing into the ground while creating a very harsh and annoying noise, Grandma gave my mother a harsh glaze ,but after looking at me she felt remorseful for giving my mom a very irritating look, Grandma facial expression made it clear to me that she was more concerned about me than she was to the food that had been spilled . "WHAT", Grandma cried into the air and that suddenly took dad's attention flying off the TV screen and across the room to me, and his mouth fell wide open in disappointment, by that time my mum was already running towards me to control the whole situation, it was when she lifted me up that it occurred to me that I was sitting on something, some...thing, sticky... something... o urine, and I remembered I had grabbed my Moms phone before, because I was attracted to the animated display on it. Grandma then folded her hands and shuck her head in displeasure, I thought dad would be mad at me but he just hissed. In hindsight, I wish I'd seized the opportunity to take his phone instead, but every time I'd attempted to grab it in the past, he would become enraged and tap my fingers three times, forcing me to relinquish my grip. Sometimes when I would get really attached to the phone, he would spank me on my buttocks with his palms and would just walk away while I cry and sub till my mum returns from running errands. I thought my dad would simply resume watching his game, but instead he faced another direction and got enraged, I followed the line of his gaze and saw that he was really annoyed about the broken plates and the wasted food on the floor. "Mummy BENJAMIN!!" he shouted "Honey" my Mum tried to sweet talk my Dad to avert crisis. "Don't call me that, do you know how hard it is to get money these days? See, what is that on the floor" he asked in a rather annoying tone, my mum was speechless looking at him and trying to hold back her laughter, but later resulted to a chuckle. "You think it is funny right? Don't worry" he yelled in infuriation "Don't worry at all" he added and rushed into the kitchen and came out with a small tin can which had always been abandoned by everyone, but I for a fact knew that it was a place where my mum saves the little money she had from who knows where . I knew my mum wasn't into any illegal business what so ever, because illegal businesses brought huge amounts of money but my mum only brought home a few dollars a day, well I knew because most of the times she lies that she wanted to breastfeed me in the kitchen but would only go there to hide her money, my Dad believed this because Grandma had placed a totally fine soft chair in the kitchen. I was partly surprise when I discovered Dad also knew my mum hid her money in the can. He scatters some of the money on the floor and he flung the rest emotionally in the air. With the expression on my Mum's face one could immediately figure out that she was furious, but she just chuckled playfully again and that annoyed my father even more. "Only mad people laugh when there is nothing to Laugh about" Grandma said. "I should have known I married a mad wo… "Before my father could finish his sentence, my mother's hand flew to his face like a thunderbolt, leaving five red marks in its wake. My father was taken aback. I couldn't believe, this it felt like I was in a movie scene. Grandma tried to cover my eyes with her hand but I squirmed out of her grasp, straining to see what was happening. She was too slow to stop me, and I caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding before me. I was only 3 years old but I could pretty much joke around like a 4-year-old. My father's eyes were like fire, burning with anger. His eyelids twitched and his fists clenched, as if he was about to explode with rage. He looked like he had transcended the limits of humanity and anything was possible, even dislocating the bones of an elephant with his fist. My mother's face turned pale as she realized what was about to happen. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, my father swung his arm back and punched my mother in the jaw, knocking her to the ground. She landed in a pile of broken plates and spilled rice. I was terrified, watching the scene unfold before my eyes. I couldn't believe that my father would do something like this. He looked at my mother, lying on the ground, and his expression changed from anger to remorse. He realized what he had done, and he fell to his knees, crying. My mother slowly stood up, her jaw swollen and her eyes filled with tears. She looked at my father with sadness and disappointment. I was still frozen in place, not knowing what to do. I could feel Grandma's strong arms lifting me up and carrying me to her chest as she ran into the guest room. I knew my parents' relationship was a volatile one, but I never thought my father would be so cruel as to consider violence. I felt disappointed in him. It seemed like such a small problem had become such a huge issue between them. Even though I was two rooms away, I could still hear them arguing loudly. It sounded like the battle was moving from one room to another. When Grandma's phone started to die, she decided to plug it in for a little while. I was stuck, wishing I had been born when Grandma was still in her right mind, when she was still kind enough to support us financially. Before my father became addicted to drugs, before he started considering leaving my mother and giving me away to strangers. I felt so helpless. I wished I could do something to make everything better. I wished I could make them love each other again, like they used to. But I was just a child, and I didn't know what to do. All I could do was hope and pray that things would get better. The door to the house opposite ours suddenly opened, and a lady who must have been in her mid-40s came out. She gasped in shock when she saw my grandmother carrying me in her arms. "Oh, my goodness, what happened?" she asked, her eyes wide. "It's a long story," Grandma said, her voice shaking. "But I need to get my grandson somewhere safe." The lady nodded and stepped aside, letting Grandma into the house. She closed the door behind us, and Grandma set me down on the couch. The lady looked at me with concern, and then turned to Grandma. "What happened?" she asked, her voice soft. "It's... it's complicated," Grandma said, her voice breaking. "My son-in-law... he's not himself right now. He... he hurt my daughter. I just need to get my grandson out of the house for now. I'm so sorry to bother you." "It's no bother at all," the lady said, placing a hand on Grandma's shoulder. "I'll do whatever I can to help. Do you need me to call the police?" "I... I don't know what to do," Grandma said, tears streaming down her face. "I'm just so worried about my daughter." The lady nodded. "I understand," she said, her voice gentle. "I know this is a lot to deal with, but we'll figure it out. In the meantime, why don't we get you and your grandson something to drink? I have some tea, if you'd like." Grandma nodded, and the lady went into the kitchen. I sat there on the couch, feeling overwhelmed and scared. Everything was happening so fast, and I didn't know what to do. The lady returned a few minutes later with two cups of tea. She handed one to Grandma and one to me. "I'm Mary, by the way," the lady said, sitting down on the couch next to me. "And you must be Benjamin, right?" I nodded, too scared to speak. I had never met this lady before, and I wasn't sure what to say. "It's nice to meet you, Benjamin," Mary said, smiling at me. "I know this is all very scary, but I promise you're safe here." The fight in the house next door was chaos. My dad, who had always been a kind and gentle man, was now a raging storm of anger. He had hit my mother and broken a window. My grandmother had rushed me out of the house and brought me here, to this safe place. But my mother was still in the house with my dad. I could hear the sounds of the fight through the walls. I could hear my dad yelling and my mother crying. I was so scared for her. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted the fight to end. Suddenly, there was a crash, and there was silence which made us all worried. Was everything over? Is my family back together? After what felt like eternity, I heard the sound of car doors slamming outside. Then, I heard footsteps approaching the front door. The door opened, and my mother rushed inside, her face tear-stained and her hair disheveled. I could feel her trembling as she held me in her arms. I was scared and confused. I didn't know what was going on. Then, I heard the sound of a car door opening, and I heard voices outside the house. I peeked through the window and saw two police cars and two white buses, the kind that carry patients to the hospital. I watched as the police officers and paramedics walked inside the house. I saw my grandmother talking to one of the officers. My heart was pounding. I was so scared. I didn't know what was going to happen. Was my mother hurt? Was my father hurt? I didn't know what to do. The next thing I knew, my mother was telling me that we had to go to the hospital to be checked out. My heart was racing as we got into the back of one of the white buses. The paramedic checked my mother's injuries, and I watched as they put a bandage on her head. They told me that I was okay, but I was still worried about my mother. I sat next to her on the bench in the bus and held her hand. I could see the concern on the paramedics' faces. It seemed like we were in the bus for hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. Finally, we arrived at the hospital. My mother was taken to a different room to be examined. I was left alone in the waiting room. I tried to stay calm, but I was so scared. I didn't know what was going to happen next. All I could do was wait and hope that my mother was okay. After what seemed like forever, a doctor came out to talk to me. I held my breath as he started to speak. "Your mother is going to be okay," he said with a reassuring smile "She has a concussion, but she will recover. She just needs to rest." I let out a sigh of relief. My mother was going to be okay. I was so relieved. The doctor told me that I could see my mother, but she was going to be sleeping, so I should be quiet. I nodded and followed the doctor to my mother's room. When I saw my mother lying there on the hospital bed, I felt my eyes fill with tears. I knew she was going to be okay, but I was still so scared. I took her hand and held it. She looked so peaceful, sleeping there in the hospital bed. I wanted to stay there with her forever, but I knew I had to go home eventually. After a little while, I noticed my grandmother standing in the doorway. She looked tired and worried. I could tell she had been through a lot that day. She came over to me and hugged me. "Are you okay?" she asked. I nodded and told her what the doctor had said. "I'm glad your mother is going to be okay," my grandmother said. "But we need to talk about what happened today." I looked up at her, feeling scared again. I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk about it, but I knew I had to. "What do you want to know?" I asked. My grandmother took a deep breath. "I want to know why your father did what he did," she said. "I know he has a temper, but I never thought he would hurt your mother like that." I didn't know what to say. I didn't understand why my father had acted the way he did either. I had never seen him that angry before. I wasn't sure if I could explain it. "I don't know," I said. "I don't understand it either." My grandmother nodded. "I know this is hard," she said. "But we need to talk about it. We need to try to understand what happened so we can figure out what to do next." I nodded. I knew she was right. We needed to figure out what to do, but I wasn't sure how we could do that. I felt so lost and confused. My grandmother took a deep breath and looked at me with a serious expression. "I think your father needs help," she said. "He is obviously struggling with something, and he needs to get some help to deal with his anger. I think he needs therapy or counseling." I nodded. I knew my grandmother was right, but I was still scared. I didn't want my father to be mad at me for telling anyone about what had happened. I didn't want him to be mad at my grandmother either. But I knew she was right. "Do you think he will go?" I asked. My grandmother looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think he will if he realizes how important it is," she said. "But it's going to be a difficult conversation. He may not want to admit that he needs help." "What if he doesn't want to go?" I asked. "What if he gets even more angry?" "That's a possibility," my grandmother said. "But we have to try. We have to do what's best for your mother and for you. Your father's anger is affecting the whole family, and it's not healthy for any of you. We need to do something to help him get better." I thought about what my grandmother was saying. I didn't want to upset my father, but I knew she was right. I just wasn't sure how to talk to him about it. I didn't want to make things worse. I felt so conflicted. "What if I talk to him?" I asked. "Would that help?" My grandmother looked thoughtful again. "I think that might help," she said. "But I want you to be prepared for the possibility that he might get upset. I don't want you to be hurt by that. You are just a child, and this is not a game"