The room is dimly lit, there are heavy drapes blocking out all but a few streamers of light. Dust is caught in these streamers, making what little light there is seem almost solid. I am standing in this room next to an old couch that looks like something from the early 70's. Though I stand alone in this room, the house is not empty, I hear screaming from the next room. A man and a woman argue loudly, violently just beyond a dark brown door.
The fight becomes physical at a certain point, banging and shuffling can be heard. I began to walk towards the doorway and as I get closer the noise grows in volume and then suddenly, violently, the door is thrown open. My mother backs out of the door screaming, my father charges towards her with clenched fists, both oblivious to my presence. The two collide and back into me, things become confusing, tangled, I lose track of who is where and fall to the rough carpet....it is a brown color almost like the door. I lay here stunned while the screaming continues. There is a crashing sound and suddenly my face is covered with dirt from a potted plant that was knocked over. The soil stings my eyes, and the earthy taste makes me gag. I do not think the pot is broken, the screaming stops, replaced by sobs.
It is the late 1980's, this will be my first memory of life.
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