A Hawaiian Shirt That Scared
Tears are falling down my face as I stick my head through the banister and listen to them yell. “She is not my daughter and she will never be.” Rich’s voice sounds like nails on the chalk board. He is always dressed in a Hawaiian shirt that is a size to big and khaki shorts that shows off his tattoo. An orange tiger flying out of a bust of red and yellow flame on his left calf made him seem as if he was trying to put on a persona of being a bad ass. The tiger is bearing its teeth with two pointy fangs. He was never clean shaven and always had too much hair on his face. On his right wrist there was another tattoo of red rose buds and skulls linked by barbed wire. His face is hard and distant.
BANG!! A ceramic plate hits the wall in the direction of Rich coming from what I assume is my mother. She has been married to Rich for about two years and has put my brother and I on the back burner to make time for a man that does not want anything to do with us. She throws plates all of the time in arguments like this usually she is slurring her worlds and unable to stand up straight and more than likely has not sleep for days either because she is in the middle of a manic state or she is using meth again.
My brother and I listen to arguments like this all the time. The arguments usually have something to do with us and we do not understand why. Being able to grow up and realize that their problems have nothing to do with my brother and I. This is what changed my life. He is not in the picture anymore and the thought of him still makes my blood boil. The things I have heard him say about me will stay with me forever but now I have learned to surround myself with people that love me such as my grammy and my boyfriend Steven.
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