Pure Pain, Excruciating Love

Chapter 26

The house was silent. We could hear some shuffling upstairs, but nothing more. I slipped my shoes off and then went back to my dad's side,instantly getting hold of his hand. And then I pressed myself further into his side as our heads turned to face the figure that was descending the stairs. She looked like a complete utter mess. Her hair was tied up in a more-than-messy bun, her eyes has heavy dark circles under them, her attire was just crumply, and she was shuffling her feet like she just woke up. As she got to the last step she diverted her eyes to us.

"Where've you been?" She asked my dad.

I felt my dad stand straighter, he was more tense.

"I went to pick up our daughter," he replied with a slight touch of anger as he emphasised 'our'.

"Took you that long?" She grumbled as she walked past us to the kitchen.

"Took me that long?" He asked with pure fury. He let go of my hand as he followed her.

My mom looked up to meet his gaze as she poured herself a cup of water.

"I told you we had no groceries," she stated, downing the water.

"AndI left you the money right over there to go buy whatever was needed,"my dad let out, his voice rising.

"Don't yell at me," my mom sneered.

"What have you done all day Martha? I have a job to do and then I need to leave to go pick our daughter up."

My mom's eyes looked at him with a blank expression, her eyes merely looking over at me.

"WhatI've done all day? Are you kidding me?" She yelled. "You think this house gets cleaned all by itself? Or the trash is taken out with a snap of fingers?"

That was enough to enrage by father.

"What the hell are you talking about? The house is never clean. I clean it up in the weekends. And if you do clean it, you do a crappy job because you have a drink in your hand as you do it."

My dad's voice was now loud, his hands on the kitchen counter as he confronted my mom. I hated seeing him like this. He's right though,he does everything. I love him for it. And I can't see how my mom has the heart to treat him like this. He gives her everything. I know apart of him still cares for her. And as the thought crossed my mind,my eyes watched as my mom pulled out a bottle of some alcoholic drink and then poured it into her cup.

"SeriouslyMartha?" My dad yelled, making me take a step back.

"What do you want David? Leave me alone," my mom snapped, taking a gulp before refilling her cup. "Don't come accusing me of not doing anything."

"Really? Then why didn't you go to buy groceries? What were you doing all day? 'Cleaning'?" And my dad walked after her as she advanced the living room. I took slow steps after them, stopping at the living room's entrance.

"Shut the fuck up David," my mom bellowed.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to use those words in front of your daughter?" My dad yelled, almost towering over her.

"She's a big girl, she'll hear it around. What's the harm?" My mom spat.

"She's nine," my dad bellowed. "A nine year old who you're going to let starve because you were so busy downing down your drinks and laying in front of the TV doing nothing."

I hid behind the wall, my eyes peeking to watch them arguing.

"Goto hell David," my mom yelled, downing her drink. And she was set onto her yelling rant. And that was it for me. I ran up the stairs to my room and shut the door behind me. I could hear them yell and argue. It was always the same. It seemed like a routine. With a heavy and tired sigh, I eased myself onto the ground, my back against the bed. I closed my eyes for a while, trying to block the noise. A few minutes later I heard footsteps nearing my door, and then there was a soft knock and my dad walked in. His eyes were tired, his shoulders slouched. He looked at me with sad eyes and approached where I was sitting.