Bungalow & Old Apartment

I thought it was finally over but it was not. Mother started it again and Father yelled back with all the volume his throat could afford.
“Why did you give your number to another woman?”
“She is a client! A CLIENT! STOP THAT OR I”LL…”
“WHAT? HIT ME AGAIN?”
How I wished I can scream out loudly! But as I was taken as if I was invisible, caught between a fight of foolish adults, I stood up and rushed into my room.
I did not know when but as I touched my cheeks, I could feel tears streaming down ceaselessly; I was crying. I had not idea how many times I had cried since that year. That year, Father successfully became a Chief Executive Officer of a company while Mother, the chairman of the Women Society. From an old apartment, we moved into a big bungalow, for a better life, or that was what they told me. However, it was actually a beginning of a nightmare.
Father went home late every night that Mother often suspected that he went looking for another woman. He could spend time on his so-called work but why could he not do so on me? Mother was not much different too. She was always away from home, helping, advising other women on how to educate their children with love, to spend more time with them. But where was her when I needed her the most?
I missed the old apartment we used to live when we were poor. Unlike now, we only ate the same fried rice that Mother used to cook for every dinner. Father and Mother never fought each other and I was very grateful to have been born into such family. The most unforgettable thing was how Mother treated Father after his work. She would comfort him with her sweet voice, warm complexion and, the most interesting part, her seducing eyes. This was why I felt they have left something very important in that house.
“Ann, I’m sorry. Let’s sleep together for tonight.” came a voice from outside and I knew it was Mother’s.
I agreed and went to her room. Father and Mother had separate rooms now, with a thick, black wall kept separating them. So much hatred I had on that wall that I dared not touch it even once.
“No, Ann. You sleep with me.” Father insisted.
I could not bear it any longer! With all my might, I punched that wall as if it was my sole enemy. Fresh blood was then rushing down from my fists, pain piercing throughout my fingers. However, the feelings of disappointment and anger deep inside my heart were more powerful, so stronger that they made me forget the pain on my fists, so potent that, for a moment, I forgot how to cry.
“I don’t want to be with ANY OF YOU! I want to be with both of you! BOTH OF YOU!”
There was a dead silence. Then, Father and Mother looked at me with their tear-filled eyes and blank faces, as if they were stricken by a force. They faced each other and then, just then, they smiled, even in a rather embarrassed way. Tightly, we hugged each other. I could at last feel the warmth I had long dreamt for. Father and Mother had found the thing they left in that old apartment. It was love. Love.

by-sacredsword