There was Mommy and Daddy into a wrestle of harsh verbose talks. Good to know it wasn't of any
fisticuffs but a shrill of waves ran downstairs where words only pound each their heart. If grawlix is tangible
enough to fill the house, then the house would be flooded with it because of their coarseness. Good riddance
is not their game; I know that for sure. But trepidation rippled all over my system ‘coz I wasn't quite sure
what mess they got sunk into. I prefer not to speak of their troubles. I ain't so sure if I’m the cause of all of
this, and I don’t know if I’m being a pain in the ass but I’m still frightened. Mommy told Daddy that there’s
always an ocean of leeway to leave at once. Continuously, the air around them was deprived of silence and
both of them still had stern look on each other. They were like dogs and cats not by brawl but by strident
voices.
Mom got no job, and Paps’ performance rate was said getting low but he’s still in his condescending
mode. More and more, they grow impatient with each other. We haven’t achieved of what they called as
utopian family; I don’t think there’s no such thing. Nevertheless, what I want is happiness within us but
everything turns out to be in some kind of collapse; that everything seems to breakdown. I was stuck on an
emotional drudgery trying to cope up with my relationships with my parents but everything seems to be
despondent.
Another day passed, I got up from my immortally-chaotic cradle. The house was filled with silence
where Mama shed tears on the floor. And Daddy was on his way to the threshold with all his packs with
him. Paroxysms of pain struck my chest as I clearly saw all the detritus of their mess. Mommy revealed
that Daddy got her own Cherry and a sprout of his own. I didn’t spit out a word about it. So this was how
the morning would approach me: that’s what I thought at first. There was nothing good about that Saturday
morning. Though the house breathe a little space of rest, I temporarily lost my appetite but sooner became
insatiable with every meal. After that day, Papa never left any trails in the house. Although, he sends us
financial supports arbitrarily and rarely, there was never sight of him again.
Today, I don’t bother to recall the violence of my memories. I just tend to keep it to myself: the
emptiness caused by the absence of a father. No amount of chocolates or any other foods could replace my
father’s place. My parents’ conflict has also afflicted pain in my chest, and the distress it burdened me.
None of them were spoken to my friends. I am acquainted by a handful of friends yet I still feel so lonely, and sometimes I feel like some things augur pain. The past left me a huge scar in my system; all I got to do
is to accept it. Yeah, life is pretty much about acceptance.
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