kyle custoya held on tightly to his teddy bear. he watched from the window as his father zigzagged on the street, making his way home. night was approaching, and his father was drunk again. kyle knew it was not going to be a good night.

his mother entered his bedroom and tried to pry the teddy bear off his hands. his father hated seeing the teddy bear. he kept telling kyle that he was old enough to lose the teddy bear. kyle didn’t want to lose his only friend. besides, he was only six years old. his older sister didn’t lose her barbie doll until she was twelve, and even then it was her choice to stop playing with the dolls.

kyle strengthened his grip on the teddy bear. his mother just sighed and told him to come to the kitchen for dinner. kyle followed her out of the room. once outside, he heard banging on the front door.

his father must have forgotten his keys again. that was the only reason kyle could think of why his father would bang outside the door. and he must be too drunk to not even think of calling for someone to open the door for him. not that kyle wanted to. all he could hear was his fathers groans.

the television was turned on, and his mother’s gaze was fixated on the news. the newsman talked about walking cadavers. kyle didn’t know what a cadaver was. he looked at his mother. her eyes were brimming with tears. he didn’t know why. outside, his father continued to groan and bang at the door.

his sister sighed and went for the door.

before father could get into the kitchen, kyle’s mother started saying grace. kyle’s dad hated saying grace.

“our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” her mother intoned, bowing her head and closing her eyes. kyle watched her as she spoke. she always said she would like for kyle to say grace with her, but kyle didn’t like saying grace either. saying grace meant he was going to be beat up by his father again.

kyle turned to the small hallway that lead to the front door. he wondered what was taking his sister so long in opening the door. behind him, his mother continued, “thy kingdom come. thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

“give us this day our daily bread. and forgive us our trespasses—”

kyle’s mother was cut short by a barely-stifled scream. kyle’s eyes widened as his father stumbled into the kitchen. holding his sister’s limp body. gnawing on one arm. kyle turned to his mother. saw her widening eyes.

the next thing kyle knew, his mother was herding him towards the supply closet. she was whispering to him, telling him to hide and not to open the door. that she will take care of his father. that he would be safe as long as he doesn’t leave the closet. not unless she asked him to.

kyle nodded. and she closed the closet.

inside the closet, he heard his mother shout. he heard things crashing. he heard more groans. and moans. and then silence. kyle looked at the knob. it was turning. kyle reached out and locked it. the knob jiggled. and then the pounding began. the banging.

kyle clutched at his teddy bear. and he continued his mother’s grace: “—as we forgive those who trespass against us.” his small voice filled the closet. “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. amen.”