30 Days of Writing Challenge 2017
The arguments from the upper floor made her wonder if marriage was worth it. To see her mother in such pain and anguish made her feel so helpless. What could my father have done to make my mother fume with such rage?
This summer, she noticed a change in her mother’s eyes. She no longer smiled with them for they were covered by designer sunglasses to hide the ugly bags that appeared from endless crying. I was too afraid to ask her what was wrong for I knew she’d say “I’m just tired my love”. I was afraid of hearing the truth.
[And] one night when the rain poured immensely as if it were in a race with my mother’s tears, I quietly went upstairs more so out of curiosity. My father never liked locking doors. I heard him say once; a cracked door holds many secrets and I’m an open man.
My mother kept repeating the same line. What have I done to deserve this? With his whiskey in one hand and the other slowly loosening his tie he turned to her and said.
“I never loved you”.