The Last Time
I did it alone,
without leaving.
The welt on my face
still hot, I crept downstairs,
pried open the toolbox
and grabbed the hammer
with his initials burned deep
into the handle.
Upstairs, my brother slept
in his room, a glass box
of reptiles watching over him.
I turned the knob slowly,
and stood over my father's body,
his chest heaving, then sinking,
when his tongue rattled, then stopped,
and the whites of his eyes
rolled over, and he stared
only at the weapon in my hand
and I looked at him and said,
If you ever touch us again,
I will kill you.
And then he saw me.
Okay, he said.
Okay.
Copyright Credit: Rachel McKibbens, "The Last Time" from Pink Elephant. Copyright © 2009 by Rachel McKibbens. Reprinted by permission of Cypher Books.