When I was about five years old, I can remember how my parents would argue all the time. It eventually led to physical violence, and sometimes I get hurt as well. It was really scary for a child to experience something like that from his own parents.
If I remember well, the one who's most at fault for all the arguments was mom. Dad would always come home late and drunk, then mom will start to complain. They argue, fight, and mess up the house.
"Stop telling me what to do, woman!"
"I told you a million times already, haven't I?! Stop getting yourself drunk whenever you go home!"
"Shut up and lock yourself in a room. Seeing your face ruins my mood!"
"Why, you!… you should be the one locking yourself in a room! You're a wretched mess!"
"The one that needs to be locked up is 'you'! A woman messing around with random guys and having a child that doesn't even comes from her own husband!"
"S-Stop it!"
I would always watch them behind one of the supposed closed doors. A child is supposed to be sleep early. But even though it was late at night, I was awake to witness them argue like this again.
Even if I heard all of their arguments, none of it ever made sense to me. I was a slow learner, so I can't understand what it all meant but it eventually sinked in when dad left us. I was seven years old at that time.
"D-Dad! No!"
"Stop, Toma! Don't go after your father!" Mom yelled.
I was too stubborn to listen and caught up with my dad. I hugged his leg, not letting him go. "Dad, no! Why are you leaving us? Why can't you be with us anymore?"
The way his face looked, I can still clearly remember how he looked at me that time. He looks down at me with the coldest eyes and spoke with a tone of disgust. "I'm not your father, brat."
That made me step back, letting him free. The man who I thought was my father wss not my real father. I looked at mom and saw her crying. "Toma, I..."
"Is that true, mommy?"
"Toma, your father—" I knew she would start explaining, but that will make it too complicated for me to understand. I still have difficulty in understanding reasons.
"He said he's not my father, is it true!?"
"Toma please calm dow—"
"Yes or no!? Please, just answer me!"
There a long pause before she gave me a simple answer. "...yes. Toma, he isn't your father."
It occured to me that I'm the main reason why he left. I am not his child. That made me hate my mom in an instant for keeping a huge secret from me. I hate her... I really did. Because of her, a man who was not even related to me got his life ruined because he married this awful woman.
"I hate you!" I screamed aloud before dashing to my room. At that point, my life started to become even more worse that it was.