CHILD ABUSE AND TRAUMA)
My mother looked at me, her face a mix of worry and resolve. "I wasn't sure how to tell you this. I didn't want to get your hopes up. But the letter is from Hogwarts. It's a school for wizards and witches. I went there myself. I was in Slytherin. There are four houses: Gryffindor for bravery, Ravenclaw for intelligence, Hufflepuff for kindness, and Slytherin for ambition."
I stared at her, trying to grasp the enormity of her words. Just as I began to process this new information, a car pulled into the driveway. My heart sank. Dad was home.
I jumped up, clutching the letter tightly, and hurried upstairs. Since I was seven, I had learned to retreat whenever Dad came back from the bar. On my birthday, Halloween, he'd returned angry and drunk, wielding a knife. The scar on my leg was a permanent reminder of that night. Mom took the brunt of his fury to protect me, but sometimes he remembered he had a son.
I laid the letter under my pillow and grabbed my Walkman, plugging in a tape and leaving one earbud out. As I played the music, trying to drown out the impending chaos, I heard Dad's roar.
"Hey! Get your ass down here!"
I flinched, my body filled with dread. I shakily descended the stairs. Before I could fully comprehend my surroundings, Dad's rough hands grabbed my hair, dragging me into the living room. I gasped as I saw Mom, her face pale, her eyes pleading.
"Tobias!" she cried, but Dad's anger was a storm, and his voice drowned out her pleas.
"Shut up!" he yelled, his face twisted with rage. I felt a sudden surge of defiance. "Don't talk to her like that!" I shouted back, my voice trembling but determined.
The slap was sudden, metallic pain filling my mouth. I focused on the emotionless void I had learned to create, a mental shield against the violence. I could see Mom's tears, her fear, and her futile attempts to protect me. I shook my head at her, silently urging her to stay back.
Dad's anger turned into a torrent of slurs and insults. I knew the routine well—his words were like a script I had memorized. I had learned early on to go blank, to shut down my emotions. It was a survival mechanism, a way to endure the unendurable.
He pushes me, trying to get a reaction, but I've learned. The best way to stop an attack on yourself or someone else is to go blank. Rid yourself of emotion. Stay calm. Yes. I've been doing Occlumency since I was young. Before I even knew what it was. Before I knew of magic.
As he raged on, I remained detached, focusing on keeping my mind calm. I was always ready to shield Mom if he turned his anger on her, but tonight, the scene was familiar and all too predictable.