"Is Mommy Okay?"
"Is Mommy okay?" The words always came out as a whisper. Maybe I didn't want to wake my little brother, maybe because it was late in the night and that is just what people do, or maybe I was scared of the answer. A few minutes before I nervously asked my question, I had been awakened by the sound of a low moan. Most children would conjure up ghosts in their closets or a monster under their bed, but I knew exactly what it was; I tiptoed past my sleeping brother,and hurried to my parents' room. I lightly placed my hand on their door and slowly pushed it open, the fear rising in my chest. I would not step into their room. I had been warned in the past that I was not to go near her when this happened. I stood glued to my spot at their doorway, paralyzed. I watched their silhouettes, straining to make out my mother's face. My father was standing at the ready beside their bed, waiting and watching. The low moan was now accompan
