Ellen will tell you it wasn't her fault, but don't believe her cause she's just a little kid and all little kids are liars. I'll tell you the truth, and that's that a moth was trapped in the kitchen light fixture, and when Dad was standing on a chair to change the burnt out bulb, it escaped.

      Ellen's the one that let out a yelp that sounded how a dog might sound the second it get's hit by a truck, and that's what really startled Dad and made him lose his grip on the fixture cover. It fell and landed on Mom's head beneath him.

      When I saw that first red lump of blood fly out of Mom's head and splash onto the tile floor, my lunch came back up and splashed right down next to it. Dad said something I'm not allowed to repeat and ran to the phone to dial 9-1-1. Ellen was crying like a baby and ran into the family room to bury her head in between the couch cushions and I stood hunched over, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

      Mom was sitting up on the floor by then, saying, "Girls, I'm ok," and then she yelled at Dad to go get the mop and clean up.

      "Susan," Dad said, "Relax." He rushed towards Mom and looked like maybe he was gonna touch her cracked head, her hair all dark and goopy, but then didn't—just stood over her and started breathing really loudly.

      Ellen's shrieks were getting louder, too, and Mom kept shouting "I'm ok, sweetie. Just a little boo-boo." Then Mom turned on the voice she always uses when fighting with Dad and said, "Richard, get the mop."

      Dad ran out of the kitchen and I climbed up on the counter cause I didn't want to get my socks dirty. Mom yelled at me to get down, that it was dangerous up there, that I could kill myself, but I didn't listen. Dad came back with the mop and started swishing it around on the floor. I think he was making more of a mess than there already was and Mom said, "If I want something done right, I have to do it myself." So she stands up and starts mopping the floor and her white t-shirt is turning red and the doorbell rings. Next thing I know, all these men are in our house and they're scuffing up our kitchen floor with their boots and they're trying to take Mom away but she keep's saying, "Just let me clean up," and, "Didn't your mother ever teach you to wipe your feet at the door?"

      Dad's breathing was getting heavier and one of the men grabbed a paper lunch bag from the counter and put it over Dad's mouth. The bag popped in and out like a balloon.

      Finally the men dragged Mom out of the kitchen but not before she tipped the mop over towards me and said, "Try to clean the floor, darling."

      I ran into the family room with the mop between my legs like a witch and found Ellen with the wettest cheeks I ever saw. I said, "Ellen, we got to clean up before Mom gets home," and she asked me what they were gonna do to Mommy and I said, "I don't know, just help me clean up."

      When we got back into the kitchen, Dad was sitting down with his face still in that paper bag but all those men were gone. I went over to him and sat on his lap and took the bag away from his mouth and dropped my voice real low, almost down to a whisper, and I said, "Daddy, are you hurt too?" He wrapped his arms around me and took a deep breath and said, "Nobody's hurt, Dani," and then let out a hiccup.

      I asked him if we really had to clean everything now and Ellen chimed in, saying, "Yeah, do we really?" and Dad said, "No, lets just wait for Mommy to get home."

      Then I thought of something, and I think Dad thought of it at that same time, and who knows, maybe even Ellen thought of it, too, cause we were all just sitting there, looking up and down and right and left, like we were looking for something, like we wanted to know one thing: Why do moths always got to fly into the light?

About the author:

Molly Tolsky is currently studying fiction writing at Columbia College Chicago with plans to graduate in May. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pindeldyboz, The 2nd Hand, and Hair Trigger. And if you haven't noticed, she's the prettiest of The Green Flash editors.