A Sunny Day

I was outside playing with the new dog I got for Christmas on a sunny day. something I've been requesting since I was three years old. I remember briefly feeling happy. I was as carefree as a child could be and had no concerns.

I at least wanted that day to be like that. My dad's drunken return home that day is the real story. Yet again he pursued my mother and I. something that has been going on since I was three years old, when my grandfather passed away. My father was motivated to live by his grandfather. He would have been dissatisfied with the manner in which my dad's death was handled, and I would bet everything in the world on that.

Rather than suffering from a common illness, my dad was experiencing grief. When my dad was young, my grandfather and dad did everything together. My dad learned to fish, hunt, swim, ride a bike, and other skills from him. He taught his son everything a father should have taught him. Everything that my father was supposed to teach me as I got older. However, his grief had prevented him from teaching me those things. Additionally, as I got older, I began to view my father as someone who has adversely influenced my character. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I was supposed to tell you about that day. He was not even a father at all.

I was overjoyed before he got home. I was proudly displaying a project I had finished with an A to my mother. He was probably drinking somewhere in a bar. Or so I thought, because he entered through the kitchen door when my mother began to congratulate me on my "A." He began to yell that we were being too loud and that we needed to learn a lesson. Ironic due to the fact that he never taught me anything that I could actually use in the future. I attempted to safeguard my mother as she tried to move me out of the way. something to which we have both grown accustomed. We even argued about why one person shouldn't get all the hits. He advanced over making us both jump. I thought he was going to hit one of us when he extended his hand.

The contrary was true. He actually grabbed my mother's onion-chopping knife. My mother heaved in shock, she began to implore him to put it down. I was told to leave the room after she stared at me. Like never before, the urgency in her voice compelled me to comply with that directive. Since then, I had been aware that today would not be a sunny one. This time, it felt like I was going to lose my mother, but I was still afraid for her.

That is exactly what transpired; after some yelling and scuffles, things settled down. My father had left the house, as indicated by the slamming of the front door. I slowed down as I got closer to the kitchen doorway, not knowing what to expect. Something I will never forget about what I saw.

I suppose I've blocked everything else to protect myself because that's all I can recall. After that one rainy day, I never had a nice day.