The Light under the dark | Teen Ink

The Light under the dark

January 11, 2018
By ChrisArenas BRONZE, Oakland, New Jersey
ChrisArenas BRONZE, Oakland, New Jersey
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

       The horrid scent of alcohol lurked in every doorway with the source being right in front of me, my father. I've been met with this scene everyday and it's nothing new to me, it’s as if the alcohol submerged his heart into a pool of darkness that left him blind to the issues of the real world. Being named with a unique name, as my parents put it, Mariluz, gave me a stoplight I didn't want. I was stuck in a world where I was made fun of in school and came home everyday to see my father alone, drinking his problems and my future away.

       There was an immense pile of papers locked away in a worn down room that plagued my mind nearly every second of the day, for these papers were the bills my father had neglected. I knew he didn’t want to see us suffer, that there was a bright light in him. But this light was covered by the death of my mom when I was young, and the walls that were put up only thickened with the alcohol he consumed everyday. Eventually the unfulfilled words on these papers came with consequences and foreclosure became a reality. My father and I were left to fend off for ourselves on the dirty streets of the city. However there was an unexpected good that came out of our situation, this newfound homelessness came as a reality shock to my father. He began to acknowledge my existence and make an effort to rebuild the connection that was lost in the depths of my childhood. Everyday no matter how bad our condition was, he told me the words “Eres el luz de mi vida, lo siento que nunca te di la oportunidad de brillar”.
       These words never held a meaning to me for through the years of neglect I was never taught the language of my parents, however I cherished the emotions behind it. They served as a motivation for me and I set out everyday doing good deeds in hopes for compensation. Each day I helped those in the supermarkets, each day I helped elders cross the street, each day I helped others, and each day I received nothing in return. But yet I woke up to the words of my father every day and set out to the do the same as the day before. One afternoon I came across an elderly woman who was struggling greatly with her bags, I approached her knowing that I wasn't going to receive anything and aided her in bringing her bags to her car. To my surprise she lended me a lottery ticket, which brought a surge of joy through my body for it wasn't much but I finally had something to bring back to my father. When I showed it to him, he took it and went to reclaim it with a discouraged look on his face. The moment our card was handed in, our future had changed greatly, we had won. The good deed I had done resulted in getting our house back. Since that day my father had praised me and repeated his phrase every day. Our future was set, at least I thought. My dad still had a dark hole in his body that was never filled, a place that only my mother could have filled. His drinking issues only worsened with our newfound money and eventually his body couldn’t bare anymore. I soon found myself standing next to the person I hated for the years of neglect, but still loved in an emergency room. Before he passed, he repeated his phrase, but this time in a way I could understand, “You are the light of my life, i’m sorry I never gave you the chance to shine”.
       Those words transitioned him into a new light where the hole in his heart could be met with the person who once filled it.



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