Broken Home


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2. 1. The beginning.

I am still not aware of when it actually started. I was 13 at the time when I noticed the tension between them. Mom and dad. They would awkwardly greed each other when he arrived home from work. My mom would pace around the house all day, I knew something was bothering her. I spent most my time in our cellar with my computer and talking with my brother. We would play video games together from when I got home from school till my mom would call us to dinner. 

I never asked him about it, my brother, but I know that he felt the same as I did. I could see it in his body language, how uncomfortable he was around everyone. The dinner used to be our family time together filled with smiles and laughter mixed with good food. I quickly noticed when things quieted down, my dad would excuse himself and go to bed early, my mom had this grimace glued to her face all the time, and as the good kids we were didn't say a word. The ends of her mouth would point down instead of up. And then things just go worse.

 

One morning I was getting ready for school and whilst brushing my teeth I heard my mom's voice seethe with poison, ''I wan't a divorce.'', followed by a heated argument. It was my first time actually hearing my parent arguing, so I stood  paralyzed in the bathroom with my toothbrush stuck in my mouth. I felt completely drained, sucked out of every emotion to even think of. My dad then came walking through the bathroom door looking at me with pity, he hugged me tight, and at that moment I broke. Everything came back, emotions hitting me in waves made me sob. I let out a shaking breath before whispering, ''Are you getting divorced?''. 

He then continuously whispered no's. He eventually had to leave, but I remember looking into his eyes right after he had kissed my forehead and said goodbye. I knew he had lied. He looked so shattered. His body seemed heavy and he walked out to his car. I remember observing him out the window as I heard my mom's sobs in the living room.

I suddenly felt mad, I knew my mom needed the comfort, but I harshly responded, ''I don't wan't to stay here in this dying house!'', when she asked me if I wanted to skip school. I hugged her and went to the school by bike, trying to hold in my tears. 

 

I cried at school nearly the whole day. One of my teachers spoke to me and said that, ''Everything is going to be alright, they'll figure it out.''

I tried so hard to believe it, but I knew it wasn't going to end well.

 

My dad eventually moved to the cellar in me and my brothers pc room, he would sleep on a couch there, go to work in the morning and coming back extremely late. My mom spend her time crying and complaining on the phone. 

I had no idea what to do - neither did my brother. We didn't talk about what was happening, and I felt fine with that, our games were our escape away from the reality.

 

Soon enough our home was no longer a home, it was simply a house. An empty house with memories lingering, but barely in sight. 

 

I began dreading family dinner, my dad no longer joined us. The food changes as well, we would no longer be served delicious food, it was now dry bread with a bit of pasta. My mom got too worn out to even serve us a proper meal.

What we called home was slowly being drained of color, it turned black and white. To find life you would have to scrape into the crumbling walls, but only to find broken pieces that quickly became puzzles for me. I couldn't find the missing pieces - so I chose to let it go. I left them in the wall and walked back to my computer.

 

I remember playing League of Legends with my friends and talking on skype. It was hard not to crack at times. I tried hard not to let the urge to scream get out. They would often ask how things were going since they knew that my parents were getting a divorce. 

I must admit that I sometimes had to mute myself just to let a few sobs go. I would cry for about 5 minutes and then get back on the mic and act as if nothing happened and that I was perfectly fine.

 

It was god damn noticeable how I felt at the time, but I guess no one cared enough to ask.

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