In the hallway I stood. My mother was sputtering lava from her mouth at my father. My father was a coiled snake hissing at mother while rocking back and fourth. His eyes were a light with the fire of a stove and she looked at him wile daggers leaped from her eyes. I knew not what was going on but I couldn't turn away, despite their words of warning my mind could not leave the sight which I saw. It seemed as though life were suspended and the flames would not end. But then just as the fire became hot and the still my fathers hand reached back like the hammer on a gun. With a loud bang my fathers hand fired hitting my mother between the eyes. Her hair drifted through the air and her head made a terrible sound, like a coconut hitting the ground, as her skull opened revealing the soft jell inside. Not until ears later when I stood before my own wife and son seeming to turn from man to serpent did I understand a thing such as domestic violence.
