How Long Will This Last?

June 5, 2011
By Jeessaayyx GOLD, East Boston, Massachusetts
Jeessaayyx GOLD, East Boston, Massachusetts
13 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Why was life easier when we were kids? When we would fight over crayons and our parents didn’t fight in front of us? I’d like to go back in time to relive those years and never move on because now that I’m finally a teenager all I hear is the sounds of screaming, yelling and cries. There’s nothing I should complain about, my parents own a beautiful two floored house, a car, well-paid jobs, and there’s no money problem... Then what’s the problem between my parents, why do they go on and on fighting, why do they scream and yell as if they’re being attacked, why can I hear my mom cry when I’m trying to sleep, why does my dad wake up with red eyes? What’s going on and how long will this last?

“I don’t care, it’s your fault! You made this decision,” shouted my mom.
“Why do you care? Are you the one in my position? It’s my life and I’ll do what I want, if it’s so much my fault, then why are you in my business,” replied my dad with a angry stare. This would go on and on. Most of the time, I pretend to listen to music while my iPod is on mute and my tears are ready to burst out.

In this situation, I feel like everything that’s going on is my fault even if I’m clueless about what my parents are arguing over. Each day, the fighting increased while my hope decreased, my hope of everything getting better. I go through each day by smiling and putting the pain aside. I looked at the clock one night and read 12:24 a.m. while I listened to the yelling, trying to figure out the problem. I heard my name and felt my whole body freeze; I felt a burning heat come to my face while the rest of my body was cold and numb. In my mind I was lost in endless thoughts, trying to find my way out but I couldn’t. I felt as if days had gone by, I looked back at the clock and it was on 12:25 a.m. My parent’s arguments are like a puzzle, a puzzle I’m trying to figure out... A puzzle that’s getting harder and harder each day, as the shouts got louder the less I would understand. A part of me wants to know why they’re arguing and the other part is trying to block out everything and think back to when I was 7...

Every hot Saturday afternoon, my parents would take me to the beach. I can visibly see the sun setting down with a pink outline. We’d walk around the beach as they taught me how to read different signs. When we’d get to the ice cream, my mom would order a Sundae for all of us to share and my dad would pay with a credit. He would pay everything with a credit card...

Was that the problem? Everything was being paid with a credit card? Or was the problem the amount of money my mom would expect? Was I the problem? What was it? Who was it?

As the shouts got louder, I sneaked my way down the stairs and out the door. I walked around my neighborhood, lost in endless thoughts. For some reason, I didn’t recognize the neighborhood that I’ve been living in my entire childhood. I felt confused because of the cold air attacking my body and the burning heat inside my body. I walked down the streets, I felt a warm heat flowing in my ear, suddenly, I saw a teenager run past by me. What better did that do? I got even more scared than I already was! I keep walking, hoping I’d be home already. As I sped up my pace, I walked by a young girl lay on the floor with blood gushing down her eye.. That’s when it hit me, even if I there wasn’t always happiness in my house, I was still safe there. Regardless of my parents problems, they were still going to love and care for me.

I walked back home, I felt calm and a little worried of how they might react. On my way, I thought about what I saw, could I have been the girl if I didn’t have my parents? Next thing I know, I was in front of my doorsteps, I took a deep breathe and slowly opened the door. The lights in the house were off; my parents arguments voice had gotten lower and less intense. Gently, I made my way upstairs, to my room. It was as I was never even gone. I lay on my bed and for the first time in a couple of months I sleep with no worries but full of hope.

Days went by fast; I guess I let life walk me by. I stopped worrying about my parent’s problems and let fate do what it wanted. What if I would of spoke up, would things have gotten better sooner? Everything seems good now, I don’t hear arguing or fighting in fact didn’t hear talking. It doesn’t matter, together or apart, I know my parents will always keep my safe.

The author's comments:
I can't move on when I'm walking in place.

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