There are three children sitting on a log near a stream. They stared at their reflections in the water and their worried expressions stared back at them, bodies rigid like they were frozen in time. The oldest, Beth, was in the center, her arms around Henry and Lindsay trying to reassure them. They came here to forget; or at least try. To ignore. To pretend what was happening was actually a horrible dream and everything would go back to the way it was before. But it was real and it didn’t take Beth pinching herself to know that she wasn’t waking up. It was the only thing she knew to be true. She thought back to when everything started going downhill and what first brought her to their secret sanctuary.
It was about a year ago. She was fourteen at the time she found it. The stream was located behind their house, hidden by the cover of trees undetected. Beth never even knew that this place existed. Her best friend at the time was angry because Beth wouldn’t let her come over to her house to hang out. Beth had learned early on in her life that the events occurring in her household were not normal, and so she kept this life hidden. She was embarrassed by her own life. Her friend thought she didn’t trust her and they got into a fight. Her friend never talked to her again. That’s why Beth chose to be so guarded. She could never let anyone in and let them see the way she lived; the way she clung to hope late at night that she could be someone else. Beth was so distraught that day that she ran home from school and came across the stream. Her own little safe haven.

Beth never got to be a normal teenager. She never had a boyfriend, texted her friends or updated her status on Facebook; she never even had a Facebook or visited any social media sites for that matter. Beth never had time for any of that and was more consumed with the mayhem going on inside her own house. The first time the fights broke out in her house, Beth woke up terrified in the middle of the night. Henry and Lindsay, six and four respectively, were crying in their rooms. The kind of restrained, silent crying that’s done into the soft fabric of pillows or clouded by deep bed sheets. Beth walked into their room, each of them huddled in their beds clutching the sheets which were something akin to a life support machine. Beth walked over to Lindsay’s bed and lightly put her hand on the back of her head.

“It’ll be okay, Linds,” Beth said, fixing her hair.
It was tousled from sleep but in an adorably messy way. Lindsay’s gaze held strong to the stuffed animal she was clutching in her hand, an elephant named Effie their father had won her at a carnival. He had been relentless; spending almost thirty dollars on this one prize he knew would make Lindsay shoot him her adorable smile that could make his heart melt. And she did. She hopped around when their dad placed the elephant in her hands like she was walking on hot coals. Her squeals echoed through the carnival park and he scooped her up and started spinning her around. Beth smiled to herself remembering how special that moment was. Her memories were abruptly torn away by their dad’s deep and threatening roars.Through the darkness, she saw Henry jerk the covers up to his eyes, clutching the blanket in two strong fists.
“Scoot over,” Beth said, turning down the covers of Lindsay’s bed. “Come over here too little guy.”
Henry trotted over to Lindsay’s bed as Lindsay slowly shifted her body to make room for him. Beth held her arms out until they were spread around them. Henry and Lindsay huddled close to their sister, curled up in her warm embrace.
“Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.” Beth said.
“Promise?” Lindsay asked.
“I promise.” Beth wasn’t sure who she was trying to comfort more: her brother and sister or herself.
The next morning, Beth woke to the sound of garbage trucks cruising down the street. She tried to groggily sit up but felt her body pinned down by two small bodies. Both were curled up oblivious to the world. A smile crept across Beth’s face as she gently tried to pull herself out from under them. First the left leg; then the right; and then she dragged her arms from behind their heads so that they gradually rolled onto the pillows.
After changing out of her clothes, Beth approached the staircase and smelled the most heavenly scent: pancakes. The sweet aroma of pancakes and maple syrup flooded the house with its glorious smell. She heard the faint sizzle of batter being poured on the griddle and of bacon cooking in a pan. After such an outburst the night before, Beth assumed the morning after would be full of backhanded comments and a breakfast that consisted of week old cereal and soon-to-be expired milk. She would watch her parents put on a show of insincere smiles, keeping to their respective quarters of any room they found themselves in together. If one was pouring themselves coffee, the other would be at the table eating or washing dishes in the sink. On the contrary Beth creeped down the stairs and heard her mother humming (humming!) a song; probably one she hardly knew any of the words to.
“Hello honey,” her mother said, more chipper than she expected.
“Good morning,” Beth said hesitantly, taking a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter. “So is everything okay?”
“Never better. Now what kind of pancakes would you like this morning? I’ve got chocolate chips, blueberries-”
“Mom,” Beth interrupted. “Are we not going to talk about last night? Henry and Lindsay were really shaken up about it. I was really shook up. I’ve never heard you guys fight like that before.”
“Oh, Beth you worry too much. You’re just exaggerating. It was just a tiny argument. Everyone has them. It’s no big deal.”
But Beth saw through her. Her mom looked tired, her eyes weary although she kept her voice upbeat when the kids came pounding down the stairs. Beth could see scratches on her mom’s arms and legs from the broken debris thrown around the house; or maybe that’s what Beth chose to believe. Her life was slowly turning into a lie; a fake facade that could only hold for so long before cracks started to show.
And those cracks appeared not soon after that day.
Beth heard the very familiar sound of her father’s screams and plates crashing on the hardwood floor. Beth’s eyes snapped open and she tentatively snuck out of her room, like each step put her in danger of setting off a trap. She could hear the gut wrenching sobs from her mother as her father’s yelling only got louder and louder. Beth knew they couldn’t stay in their house, as she sensed the walls shaking around her. Beth swiftly walked into Henry and Lindsay’s rooms, delicately shaking them awake. The kids lazily wiped the sleep from their eyes. Beth ushered them out the back door into the blackness of night. Gripping both of their hands, she wasn’t sure where to go. Suddenly, she heard the faint, peaceful sound of water slowly tumbling over rocks and pebbles, sending eternal ripples through the stream. Sitting next to the stream was an old log, covered with moss. The foliage surrounding them transported them to another land. Beth sat the kids on the log and after that moment, this stream was their getaway hidden behind a dense forest to shield them against all the things that scared them.

As soon as the sounds faded from their ears, Beth led the kids back into the house and tucked them back into bed. Both of her parents failed to realize how much their fights hurt the three kids. The mornings after were always the worst part. Beth would walk downstairs and everything would be perfect again. They downplayed the whole situation and brushed it off like some mysterious lint or fuzz ball you find on your shirt. Everytime Beth tried to bring it up, her mother looked at her with such disdain like it was her fault that her family was slowly deteriorating.

Beth brought herself back to the present. She watched Lindsay and Henry playing around in the grass watching the fireflies dance around them scouring the night sky. In a moment everything came crashing down when Beth heard a door slam. Her head swiveled behind her to peer through the spaces in between the tree branches. All three kids turned to watch their father stomp over to his car, hop in, and back out of the driveway. Their dad had never left before. Sure there had been fights and arguments on countless occasions but he never left them. He would never leave them. Beth felt the rage building inside her. There was a small chance that her dad would come back but Beth refused to give in and make up some convoluted lie that she tried to force herself to accept as truth. Her anger had been slowly building over time and this moment left her Beth watched in awe as the taillights of her dad’s car faded and he continued to drive farther and farther away from them.

“Where’s Daddy going?” Henry asked.

Beth was a year older now, but no number of years could help her explain this any better. Mostly because she couldn’t comprehend it herself.

“He’s just going somewhere,” Beth replied, comfortingly.
“Where?” Lindsay asked. Her innocent brown eyes almost made Beth break down then and there.
“I don’t know,” Beth said. She didn’t have any answers for them. In the darkness Beth saw something catch her attention. She looked up at and saw a shooting star dart across the sky.
“See that shooting star?” Beth asked, pointing at the sky. Lindsay and Henry’s eyes looked toward the night sky in wonder and amazement, for a short moment forgetting their troubles. “Daddy’s like that shooting star. He’s in your life and he makes you feel wonderful like everything is possible; like he can do anything. But then he has to go and he’s gone before he can say goodbye and without any explanation. While we don’t want him to go, someday we’ll see him again.”
Lindsay stared at the night sky, clutching Effie to her chest. She softly rubbed her hand on the elephant’s soft fur analyzing the animal’s face. Suddenly she grabbed Effie with one hand and threw her into the stream. They watched the elephant plop into the water, spraying water in all directions. Lindsay sat on the log silently, her eyes glazed over staring off into the distance.
Beth watched countless days go by without any word from her dad. The overwhelming feeling of abandonment was almost too much to handle. Years later, Beth was on a run at the park near her university when she stopped dead in her tracks. The man’s face was wrinkled and worn out but distinguishable none the less. Beth could never forget those piercing blue eyes she inherited from him or the way his disheveled hair would hang in his face. He was sitting at a park bench alone, completely immersed in a book. Without hesitation, Beth stood her ground and started walking towards her father. She was finally going to get the answers she had been denied for so long.