my dad. | Teen Ink

my dad.

September 4, 2009
By Anonymous

It started from the day I was born. My dad, was a great man, and was there for me. But when I turned about 4, my brother was 8, and my dad would always be mad. Or sad. He would always be lousy. He always yelled at my mom, or hit her. Or hit my brother for doing something wrong. Because we weren't perfect. But neither was he. I fear, of going to walmart, because when I was about 10, so two years ago, my dad, grandma, brother, and I were at walmart, shopping for groceries. My brother did something wrong, or said something that made my dad unhappy. My dad grabbed ahold of my brother's shirt collar, but my brother got away. He ran through the aisles, and throughout the whole store as fast as he could. But that didn't help. Cause my dad caught up to him soon after. As I sat down against the shopping-cart, I sat, and cried. I wanted to go back to the lay-way center and use their phone, so I could call my mom, and make everything alright. But my grandma, told me no. It would only make my dad angrier. Later, they we're soon in the parking lot. And i got ahold of my mom, and she came. My mom called the police, and my dad got in trouble. My brother had scratches on the back of his neck, from my dad trying to grab him. They're now scars. And it scarred him for life. Another fear, is Dairy Queen. Of course, it has like the best icecream. But I can't stand going there. My dad, brother, and I we're there. My brother got mountain dew on his hands, and flung it in my dads face. My dad got mad, and my brother back-talked. So my dad dragged my brother to the men's bathroom, and yelled at him. And hit him. Then, theirs another time.. My brother and I stayed at my dad's house. My brother and him we're fighting, so my brother dialed my moms number, on the home phone for her to come get him. But before she answered my dad hung it up, and hit my brother in the head with the phone. Soon they were in the garage and my dad held my brother to the ground, and put a cigarette up to his face. That's all I can remember. Those things may have happened to my brother, not me. But the words they said, all the screaming and fighting, hurt me. And all I could do, is sit there, and watch them argue. And fight. And hit. And I would bawl. But he'd just tell me to shut up. And I hate myself, for not having some way to help my brother. I love you. :3

& Dad, if you EVER read this.. I want you to know, that I wish there was some other way you could get your anger out. So you wouldn't have to cause my brotherr pain :-

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