the scream

“the scream is still inside me,” says the boy named hunter.

his eyes are molasses cookies in a pale-almond face. no one knows the number of bruises hiding on his under-grown body. they only know he arrived with no clothes and no toys–he only had the scream.

its pitch reached 112 decibels, surpassing a hog’s squeal or the sound of a jet taking off. it lasted for days, shattering glass and splintering his foster family’s sanity into a thousand dangerous pieces.

yet they merely bent their knees, and prayed.

and one day, it stopped. the scream came to a screeching halt. the silence which followed seemed to slap them in the face. and up, they arose, to take him in their arms, and love him.

he grew quiet, reflective, repentant…

only to break the silence one day over supper:  “the scream is still inside me,” says the boy named hunter.

they just look down at their plates, and shudder.

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2 Comments

  1. Teneale said,

    January 19, 2009 at 6:02 pm

    That made me sad. Is this someone you know?

  2. January 19, 2009 at 9:13 pm

    Loving foster parents are so desperately needed. I’m glad Hunter came to some who can pray for him. I hope they have people praying for them too. And that Hunter will be fully released from the scream.


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