As I lay on my bed, on this abnormally hot night of May, all I can hear is the screaming coming from my parents. You would think I would be used to it by now. All they do is yell at each other now. That’s the only way they communicate. Half the time it seems they just yell to yell.
I grab my iPhone and put my earphones in. I put on my favorite band, One Direction, and turn it up as loud as it can go. I can’t listen to them anymore. It never used to be like this. We used to be a close-knit, happy family. Well, that’s how it seemed. This tension couldn't have come out of nowhere, but my parents refuse to tell me why this was happening. The only thing that gave me peace of mind was listening to these 5 boys. They seemed to grab and hold all of my attention with their songs. And that’s how I liked it.
I heard a loud crash followed by more yelling. I took my earphones out and opened my door. The yelling seemed to grow louder as I walked down the stairs. It was coming from the kitchen. I should know better than to get involved but something seemed seriously wrong this time. As I turned the corner into the kitchen, my dad had his back towards me and my mom was facing him, yelling. She saw me and stopped at once and my dad turned around.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh you know, the usual. Your father is being an unreasonable prick.”
“Will you shut up for ONCE Mary!? God, I’m so sick of this!” my dad said as he turned to my mother.
They used to try and cover it up, telling me there was nothing to worry about. They gave up on that charade about two months ago. I cannot wait to get out of this house, away from all of this drama. All I have to do is wait until June 11th. I would be 18 and free to go. It’s not like my parents would fight for me, they’re too busy fighting over everything else.
“Oh, well I heard something break…” I said quietly.
“That was your mother, throwing her coffee cup against the wall...” my dad said, pointing towards the broken cup and brown splatter on the wall.
“Maybe if she had learn to control herself, we wouldn't have a problem to begin with!” dad said, shouting again. My mom began to cry.
“You know I regret that! Will you stop bringing that up, George!? If you’re so pissed at me, why not just get a divorce, you know you want to!” mom yelled, though she could barely speak through her tears.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But that’s just what you want! A divorce! So you are free to do whatever and WHOever you want!” Dad yelled to Mom as she put her hands on her head and ran into their bedroom, though Dad preferred to sleep in the guest room. I looked back to Dad who was now sitting at the kitchen table, his face in his hands. I turned around and ran upstairs.
I put in my earphones again, hoping One Direction could distract me. I walked over to my One Direction calendar. Liam’s smiling face felt welcoming and relaxing. I crossed off another day. There was exactly 3 weeks until June 11th. 3 weeks until peace. 3 weeks until freedom. I lay back on my bed and thought about what had just happened. I now knew that my mom did something. Something my dad could not forgive or forget.