October 12, 2009
“Great”, I thought as I heard my dad yelling in our little apartment hallway. He’ going to have a cow. I went to the living room where he was and saw that his face was red and angry. Before I could say anything he continued his argument of nothing, and said, ”why are there toys on the floor?”

Then I thought, “What in the world is this bull?” After that I just blurt out “Why don’t you ask you grand children.” “Don’t talk to me like that I’ll slap the sh*** out of you, I’m your father!” He replies with this furious look. I say. ”Since when are you so proud to call yourself that, cause I don’t!” I leave the room with such hate as I had done every time he tried to get on my case.

What is his problem? All I do is try for this a** and he gives me bull! This is unacceptable; I have saved his but many times in my childhood. Why can’t he give me that back? If only he didn’t show me so much hate, I wouldn’t mind the strictness. When I was little I stopped my mom from kicking him out on all because I didn’t know what the heck drinking was, and this is the thanks I get? This is wrong!

With all these thoughts running through my head as I was walking down the hallway, I decided to walk back. When I got back to where he was he stayed quiet. I just stood there waiting for him to open his mouth, and he did. He said. ”What the f*** are you looking at?” I reacted quickly. ”Why do you hate me so much, huh? ”He stayed really quiet like he felt stupid or unintelligent. So I walked away, crying without a sound and I heard him say. ”Because my mom was the same way to me.”

I turned around so quickly that I must have looked like I was floating. Then I told him. “You have no right to do this to your child!” ”Why me only me you show love to everyone else but me, is it because I had a child, is it because you just hate me, what is it I need to know?” he didn’t reply so I continued “this circle of hate stops now, I’m done with it” then I ran to my room.

When I got to my room that night, I promised myself to never treat my child (if I had anymore, that I kept) the way my father has been treating me my whole life. Every now and again I think of that night and cry, worried that I might one day go back on my word and end up like him. But, if I really believe that any child shouldn’t be treated that way; I know I wont.

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