Drunken Parents

My name is David, I’m 14 years old, and I’ve always had a decent relationship with my parents. They both liked to drink alot, but it never really got in anyones way, except for a few nights when my Dad would come home and yell a bit, it was really no problem, until one night.

My Mom stayed at home these days, and she had been laid off a few months back, so she had taken to lying about the house, watching T.V. My Dad had a job at the local school, and it was enough to keep us going, but things didn’t look good lately, with cuts for teacher’s pay, and some even talked of a strike, but everyone knew it would only end in manys chools having to close down. That night my Dad came home, with a grim announcement “Guys, I got laid off.” Never one for a lengthy discussion of such things, he immedietly went into the kitchen and poured himself a beer. Mom must have been expecting this news for some time, so she said nothing, and grabbed on for herself, as well as some wine and whiskey.

I stared at them for a moment, a bit concerned, but knew my place and kept my lips dumb. I went and took a shower, trying to shake off the bad vibes coming from douwnstairs where some thumping and stompings could be heard, then a yell and a scream. I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself, and walked warily down the stairs. As I was halfway down, my sister burst past me, tears streaming down her face, and her spaghetti-strap shirt half pulled down. I continued down, even more concerned than before, though my sister often cried at the slighest provocation from my parents. As I arrived in the kitchen, my father walked to the stairs and yelled “Get back down here you little slut!”

My mom sat at the table, empty glasses shot glasses in front of her, and two empty wine bottles across the table. They had hit the drinks alot more than usual, and I knew they both were raging drunk, so I slowly edged to the stairs, hopign to escape to my room. With no such luck, my mom perked up, noticing me, and began to yell at me, lettign out her frustrations.

“Why don’t you get a job, David! You lazy fucker! We work so hard for you and you just go to school, hanging out with friends! You selfish little bastard!”

I was used to the occasional insult, though not to this degree, so I ignored her, and made slowly for the stairs.