I stood by my door listening to them scream at each other. Glaring at them while they fought. Felt that oh so familiar revulsion and pain. Would they ever stop? Some nights I cried myself to sleep, just to drown out the infinite thoughts of just how much she was aching inside. If I ever despised anyone in my life, I'd have to say it was my father. He ruined my mother's life. From the despondency he caused her, to the neglected nights she waited, I had never envisioned anyone as recluse as she always was. The only thing I could do was induce her and tell her that everything would be all right. Although I knew nothing would be all right.
It was a Saturday night and I was packing my things to head over to my grandma's house. As I meandered up my stairs, I sensed the heavy smell of my father's cologne.
I stood by his door and saw that he was all dressed up, wearing a light, steel gray blouse and black pants. As he tried to attach a silver chain around his neck, he requested my assistance. I sauntered in to his bedroom and wondered where my mother was. Then, I saw him snatch the keys off the top of the television as if he were in a rush to go somewhere. I casually asked him where he was disappearing to tonight (as usual). "Anthony is having a party, so he invited me over." Confused, I questioned, "Where's mommy?" I had thought that she was taking me to my grandma's. As I finished attaching the chain around his neck, he retorted, "I don't know." I wandered around my house for a couple of minutes, realizing that I hadn't checked the bathroom. As I ambled in,