By Xiaolin, United States
I Hate Dad—He Ruined Our Family
Crash … Bang …
“Dammit, say that one more time and I’ll make you sorry! …”
The clamor of fighting broke through the peaceful silence of the night, startling my sister and I awake. We realized our parents were fighting again. Since our mom found out that our dad was seeing another woman, she smiled less, and at any mention of him her eyes filled with discontent and sorrow. From then on they never stopped fighting—I couldn’t even remember how many times they had argued. When my sister and I ran into their room crying, we just saw dad reaching out to hit mom. Crying, I dragged at dad’s arm as hard as I could, but he was too strong and I couldn’t hold him back. That night, he broke two of her ribs. She couldn’t withstand such a life of suffering any longer, so after she healed she left home and got a job in another area.
My sister and I moved in with our grandparents after she left. Our dad didn’t shape up at all because she had left; he was just the same as always. He often wouldn’t come back home all night and didn’t pay us any mind. My sister and I would go to school and go back home together every day, and the entire way other kids were being taken by their parents. They were talking and laughing with them, but my sister and I weren’t accompanied by our parents. Our little shadows looked so alone. What I was most afraid of was the school holding a parents’ assembly, and then the head teacher would ask us why our parents weren’t there. When teachers asked questions I’d always tear up, hang my head, and not say a word. I didn’t know what to say.
