There was a time in my life so miserable that the impact still lingers in my heart. My father was an alcoholic at that time, always getting drunk after work. When he went back from work, he would often have a quarrel with my mom. Thus the atmosphere in my house was always very tense, especially at nights. However, there was a peculiar night that the situation became even worse, throwing the image of strong tough mother in my mind to the vulnerable oppressed woman.
It all happened from the threshold of the house when I got back from cram school one stormy night. As I walked into the hallway, I was immediately shocked by the mess of the entire house—broken plates and cups spread all over the floor, ornaments which used to hang on the wall were pulled off, the scene looked like the house had been thieved. However, the situation was in fact even worse. Walking into the living room, I saw mom standing beside the cabinet, looking extremely irate. She kept angrily staring at the couch. As for dad, just as I expected, he was lying on the couch, looking completely drunk. Immediately, I knew something awful had happened, and the disturbing atmosphere told me better to leave the scene as soon as possible. Therefore, in case of being involved in a fierce fight, I quickly crept into my room.
Nevertheless, even though I had hidden myself well in the bedroom, I still suffered the verbal abuse from the violent fight.
“You irresponsible bastard!” said mother, “How can you get yourself into this mess again? Don’t you know that I was worried the hell about you?”
“You don’t understand anything, woman. The pressure in the office was… devastating. I worked like a dog to earn our bread. So after a burdensome work day, I deserve a rest,” father yelled back.
“How about your responsibility of the house chores?” mom vehemently shouted, “I need to work too. And after work, I still have another job to do the chores. Do I look like a robot or a superwoman? How dare you just selfishly get drunk and pretend none your business!”
Young as I was, I could not endure hearing the frightening shouts and yells from two of my dearest people in the world. I was thoroughly terrified. Out of fear, I turned on the music to cover the fighting sound, excluding myself in the music. Yet, the roaring was too loud to be overlapped, so I could still hear what they were howling.
“Don’t you think that I don’t know what you did behind me,” dad yelled, ”You have been seeing another guy, haven’t you?” said father.
Parents really should not let their kids hear this kind of ugly things, but the truth is—I heard it. Not only so, I could even hear the following blackguardly words father said to mom. It absolutely distressed me when overhearing this. Abruptly, an anger had come to mind saying:”I do not need to suffer this.” I walked back and forth in my room thinking whether I should go out and interfere it or not. Nonetheless, courage was what I lacked at that time—I was too young to stand straight up to parents. Thus, I chose cowardly stay in the room, but still tolerating no more, I roared at top of my lung with the song, hoping the fight would end soon.
Still, things would hardly happen in the way you hope. The fight did not cool down whatsoever, on the contrary, it went worse. Mom had become hysterical—she seemed to have emotional explosion because she began to cry out loudly. What’s worse? The sound she throwing thing away which may break on the ground was dreadful, while dad used foul words to insult her. And I, I was crouching on the opposite corner in the room against the door, trying to get the longest distance apart the fight. Never would I expect mom would breakdown one day, because in my memory, mom has always been a mature and caring woman. It was not until mom collapsed had I noticed that the fight was very extraordinary than others. The severer conflict went on, the louder bawling became. Finally mom could not abide it anymore, rushing out the house and slapping the door on dad’s face. Notwithstanding dad still indignantly growled and bellowed at the door though mom has left already.
It was very complex to describe my feelings in the incident. I was desperate to be involved in the fight. I got resentful, for they did not consider how I felt when they were vehemently roaring and shouting. But the strongest feeling I got was the sense of helplessness, for I could do nothing except cowardly hiding behind the music in the room. I felt extremely disappointed for myself and my miserable life.
Mother was not home for three days. I had to put up with, struggled with the depressing atmosphere in the house. However, as the years go by, I finally realize that: it was parents’ fault to let their children feeling so sorrowful to their life. They should have known that children are often the real victims of the heart-breaking fight. Children actually get the most serious harm deep in their minds, because the impact may stay in the children’s heart forever. It may even influence the personality development of the children in the long run. The hearts the fight breaks are in fact the children’s hearts.
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