I was a child of 7 ½ years old when my father broke my precious music box. I had it since I was born. It was a gift given to my mother as a baby shower gift when she was expecting me. It was one of my favorite treasures.
I was playing outside in the yard one day with my brothers, enjoying a game of bad mitten, when it started sprinkling. My brothers and I decided to stay outside a little while longer anyway. We figured a little rain wouldn’t hurt us.
Thunder cracked in the sky. Our mother called out to us from the downstairs bedroom window to gather up our things, and come inside the house immediately before we got drenched.
Our shoes were muddy, and our clothes were soaked from the rain.
Coming into thru the side door, my brothers and I tracked dirt into the house.
Our mother was in the living room. She opened the door leading down stairs toward the basement where we were headed, and shouted, “You kids take your shoes off, come back upstairs here, and head straight to the bathroom on the main floor to wash your feet. I want you then to go march upstairs into your bedrooms and change out of those wet clothes immediately. When your father comes home and sees all this mess, he will be furious. I’m leaving the floor just as it is for him to see. The three of you will get the spankings of your lives,” she shouted as we came upstairs from the basement with our barefeet, receiving spankings from her, and slaps in the face.
We were told not to clean anything up. Just wash our feet and get changed out of those wet muddy clothes.
Doing as we were told, my brothers stayed in their bedroom for the rest of the evening, as I did with mine.
I was asleep when I heard my fathers loud, thunderous voice from downstairs.
Running up the stairs with his heavy footsteps, he ran into my bedroom, pulled me out of bed by the hair, lifted me up and threw me against the wall. He yanked my hair, and slapped my face multiple times.
Walking over to my bed, he took my music box off of the head board book case, and sent it crashing to the floor. He also took my bell collection and sent them crashing to the floor, as well. Then, he grabbed my favorite Mickey Mouse radio, and hurled it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. My heart sank, because it was my very first radio I ever owned. All of my favorite things were shattered into pieces.
My father spat in my face and told me to clean up the mess.
I collected the pieces of my treasures, put them into the box, and hid them out of sight, until I was able to give them to my aunt to glue back together for me. Although she was able to restore the bells and the music box, the radio was a lost cause.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015
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