Next Door
The shouting is muffled and I can't make out the words, but I can make out the tone. My back stiffens as I listen to my neighbors screaming at each other once again.
I look at my husband in alarm. "Should we call someone? Like the police?" I ask.
"Not yet," he says.
Over the yells I hear the piercing cry of a baby in distress. I don't think the baby is in physical pain, but I think she is terrified. My heart breaks for this child. I want to go over there and take her, protect her from a world where she doesn't feel safe.
I think about my own son, asleep in his crib. I know I will do anything I can to always make him feel safe and loved, no matter what. I want to go pick him up and hold him, I wish I could love him enough to make up for all of the love other children aren't getting. If I could save every child in the world I would.
Oh dear, neighbors like this bring the troubles of the world to our doorstep, don't they. I, too, feel sorry for the child.
ReplyDeleteYou have a big heart, Anna.
ReplyDeleteThat is challenging. With the requirements in my state for educators, it sounds like it would be (or close to) the point of a mandatory reporting issue. Knowing that it wasn't an isolated event made it even harder to read.
ReplyDelete