english 6*

The house remains silent, beautiful from the outside. With no speaking abilities no one knows the secrets that lay inside. It’s a family home, it’s often said a family shows love, comfort, and joy. So it would be logical that a family home should hold all the love, comfort, and joy inside. When it’s turned around and all the secrets that it holds come out, the truth is reveled the love becomes hatred, the comfort turns into pain, the joy is now sorrow. A family is what we were, a family is what we had, a family is what we portrayed.

Enough acting, the happiness is no longer there. The cries have taken over the laughter. We can no longer fake what is not there. The selfish, self centered, alcoholic is the one to blame for what we are now; a “dysfunctional family”. All eyes surround us, peoples talk makes us the number one topic on the block.

The only things left to ask is what happened? Where did the love go? When did the comfort turn into pain? When did the joy stop? What happened to the happy family that we once were? And why did it disappear?

A night like no other, the moon is out accompanied by the stars, all shinning oh so bright in the dark night. December 24 is the day, the clock strikes midnight and it is now Christmas day. We’re all united as a whole. Hugs, smiles, and gifts are all being traded among each other. The wonderful feeling of being together fills our hearts, a time to love, a time to give.

The party stops when the men of the homes begin drinking, taking it slow at first, they’re adults, you’d think they’d know when to stop, all but one does. Taking a beer and finishing it in less then 5 minutes, he demands “Bring me another one!”. Scared with fear my mother rushes to bring him another one. 5 minutes later again, “Lola dame otra cervesa!”. In Spanish he was demanding for my mom to bring him yet another beer. The time goes by drinking one after another; He’s intoxicated with all the alcohol that runs through his body. He’s now somebody else, he’s not the same.

The person whom I had grown to love, known to adore, the person who is my father has turned into somebody else. He leaves the party to go and drink his life away. He goes to the place known as home. Where he then continues to drink away.

I’m only a child an innocent child, I don’t know much about life but I know enough to know that this is not right. We’re yet again the ones being talked about, the ones being looked at because of what a horrible job my mother did by choosing my father as a husband. The tears flow down her cheeks, she packs everything up, she can’t stand being talked about.

My mother and brothers and myself arrive at the place we call “home”; it’s a mess. I still have a clear vision of how it was the day we walked in to our home which seemed more like hell! The music as loud as could be, the empty beer bottles were everywhere, the couch pillows, the chairs, the pictures, the glass ornaments, were all thrown everywhere. It wasn’t a home, it couldn’t have been. My mother quickly rushes my brothers and I to the room so we wouldn’t witness another encounter with her and the monster that my dad had turned into.

The yelling begins, and we can hear my mom calling my dad an asshole. We hear him fighting back calling her a good for nothing whore. She doesn’t stay behind and she refuses to keep being insulted by this monster calling him a useless alcoholic a womanizer, a “mantenido” which means he lives off of her. Yells turns into screams, screams of a mother crying out for help. He throws her like an old used rag doll. Pushes her, she as fragile as she is crying strives to defend herself. All we hear are clothes ripping. The screams are getting louder and louder, stuck in a room only able to witness the harm he is causing the family, we have no choice but to sit and listen as he repeatedly torments my mom.

We then decide to play a game a game that will help us ignore what is going on behind closed doors. We play the game who can be the loudest. We do this so that our voices can overcome the screams of my mom. I scream as loud as I can “LALA LA LA”, my brothers follow and we’re all sitting huddled together we scream our heads off! We start laughing at how funny each one of us looks as we try to scream louder then one another.

We become tired and tears begin to flow down, we hug each other tight. The tears won’t stop. It’s a reality what we’re living. We cry ourselves to sleep. Because of the hell we are living in.

Family? Yes at one point we were a family. A happy family, parents don’t realize that with the screams and harm they do to each other they don’t only hurt themselves but they’re loved ones as well. What can we call it now? It doesn’t hold love or comfort nor joy! It has turned into something I never imagined it would. The days he would hold his children with love: the day he showed his affection; those were the days he was our father. But after he abused my mom he was forced to stay away from us.

Days passed and he would be given the opportunity to be our dad once again. I’d wait with anticipation longing to see him, to hug him, to kiss him, waiting by the window asking my mom, “Is dad coming anytime soon?” Minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Before I knew it he was missing all the important events in my life. I was missing him more and more each day. He’s my dad regardless of what he has put us through. In my heart I still allow him the chance to be the dad that I’ve always needed and wanted in my life.