She Jumped—But I Wouldn’t Let Go / Chapter 4: The Maple Tree’s Mercy
She Jumped—But I Wouldn’t Let Go

She Jumped—But I Wouldn’t Let Go

Author: Matthew Gross

Chapter 4: The Maple Tree’s Mercy

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He slapped me, making my nose bleed. Blood dripped down my chin, hot and metallic.

"You little brat, you dare bite me?!"

Dizzy, I still spat, "If I’m a brat, you’re a monster! You don’t deserve to be a father!" My voice shook, but I meant every word.

He was furious, slapped me again. "No respect!"

Bruised, Mom threw herself over me, shielding me with her body.

"Monster! Don’t touch my child!" she screamed, her voice raw with fury and fear.

Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed a whiskey bottle and smashed it over Mom’s head. "You bitch! Try to leave again, I’ll kill you!"

Mom screamed, blood running down her face, but she kept shielding me, her arms tight around my shoulders.

My eyes burned with rage—I wanted to fight him to the death. The urge to grab something heavy and end it all was overwhelming.

Mom held me down, whispering—

"Don’t fight him... just a little longer..." Her voice was soft but fierce, like she was holding onto hope for both of us.

That night, as Mom cried and Dad’s fists fell, I realized: I had to escape this house, even if it killed me. The thought was terrifying, but it was the only way out.

After that, Dad started keeping all Mom’s money, afraid she’d run. I called him a thief, but he sneered, "We’re family—what’s hers is mine! Even she belongs to me!" His words made my skin crawl.

No! That few hundred dollars was what Mom made selling hand-embroidered slippers! It was hers, every stitch a small act of rebellion.

When Mom found out, she went pale. Her head still bandaged, she hobbled out on crutches to ask for it. Her voice shook, but she stood tall.

Dad, cigarette dangling, sneered, "You’re my wife and you dare keep secret savings? I let you keep your wedding money, but this you hand over! My mom works her tail off, and you’re hiding cash?"

Mom cried, "Isn’t it hard for me to earn money? Why take it? You never gave me the wages you promised! Now you’re robbing me again! Frank, you’ll rot in hell!"

He laughed, snatched her crutch, and swung it like shooing a stray. "Get out! Keep running your mouth and I’ll beat you to death with this!"

Mom limped back to her room, defeated. I followed, rage simmering in my chest.

After that, he stopped hitting Mom and just hit me, afraid she’d use evidence for divorce. My arms and legs were a patchwork of bruises, but I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

At night, I cried in Mom’s arms. "Sorry, Mom, I ruined everything."

"It’s okay," she soothed, stroking my hair. "It’s not your fault. I was too weak. That’s why you got hurt."

She said she’d decided to divorce Dad. The words hung in the air, heavy and electric.

"Really?" I was so happy I almost cried. The idea of freedom felt like sunlight on my skin.

She smiled. "Yes. I stayed for you, to give you a whole family, but I was wrong. This isn’t a home. Not for people. I want you with me. Are you willing to live a hard life with me?"

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