The First Cut is the Deepest:

I first became aware of my surroundings when I was seven years old. My parents always shouted at each other. I couldn’t figure out why. They always woke me up with their fights. I would listen quietly from my room in the night.

“I hate you, Mark!!!” my mother would scream out. “You’re nothing but a pathetic jerk!”

“You’re the pathetic one!” my father yelled back at her. “All you do is drink and use smack all of the time!”

“You’re one to talk!” mother screamed back. “You drink so much that you drown the fish!”

“So do you!” father yelled back. “You’re just as bad as I am!”

“Don’t ever fucking compare yourself to me!” mother screamed back. “I will always be better than you’ll ever be!!!”

“Ha! That’s a laugh!” my father shot back.

“What did you say?!?” mother screamed.

“You heard me!!!” the father snapped. “You sad pathetic little cow!” I crawled out of the bed and crept down the stairs. My parents screamed out louder and louder. I walked all the way down the stairs to the kitchen. Mother and father still screamed at each other. I watched them about a good ten minutes. When they has calmed down, they looked up and saw me.

“Oh hi sweetie!” father said to me. I looked at him nervously.

“Hi…” I said softly. My mother walked up to me.

“Want some breakfast?” she asked me. I nodded at her some. I quietly sat down at the table. Every morning is breakfast in awkward silence. I chewed on my cereal as I stared at my parents. Part of my being screams at me not to ask a single question about their fights. I tried my best to hold my tongue. But it always manages to slip out anyway.

“Momma, daddy,” I spoke up. They looked over at me quietly. I hadn’t realized what had happened at that very second. But, I couldn’t back out now. I just pressed on forward.

“Why are you always fighting?” I asked them both. They looked at each other sheepishly. I watched them waiting. I didn’t feel bad about asking the question. I just wanted to know. They never could provide me with an answer at all. I expected as much this time. They turned back to me again. Daddy shuffled a bit.

“Well…” he said. “It’s kind of hard to explain…” Momma glared at him after she rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh why can’t you just say it?!?” she snapped at him. Daddy looked over at her.

“What do you mean?” he asked her. Momma threw up her hands in the air.

“Tell her that you are a sad pathetic drinking good for nothing!” she yelled out loud. My daddy got really angry with her on that one.

“And what about you?!?” he barked out. “You’re just as bad as I am with the drinking, you stupid woman!!!” Momma growled at him coldly. I went pale right away. Oh no, now I’ve done it. They’re going to fight away. I manage to escape before they do so. That’s how mornings at the Firefly House are. I never knew that wasn’t normal at all.