Silent Fear Behind Closed Doors

The other day, when I was staring at the ceiling in the morning not wanting to get up,

I had a foggy, but somewhat vivid recollection. I remember when I was probably 2

(complete guess, I remember sitting on the couch and I was very small, also possible because

I didn’t live in this house after I turned 4 anymore), my mom was feeding me yogurt on a spoon.

I remember hearing loud thudding knocks, and seeing the figure of a tall man through the curtains on

the window of the front door. My mom immediately held her finger over her mouth and

didn’t make a sound. I only remember not moving and waiting for her to continue feeding me.

I’ve been thinking about it since then, and wondered many questions. Why did my mom tell