Its a Love, Hate Relationship

"So, what your saying, is that it doesn't matter and she should forgive him?" He said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Not exactly, but yes! How can you think that a person shouldn't be forgiven for one mistake? He has said sorry and now they're renewing their vows, or whatever. They are happy enough so why can't you be an let it go!? Stop complaining OK? You're giving me a headache." I said, or rather, screeched, and turned away from his scowl.

I was getting more and more annoyed by the second, and i'd only been talking to him for 5 minuets. Boys! They are so infuriating!

Let me back up a little. So it was October 1st, 2012, and it was freezing. And I was unpacking a battered old Ford Focus in the middle of nowheresville. This was my Dad's idea of fun. He had dragged me, Ellie, my mum, Zoe and my brother, Toby on a mini break holiday to Wales. Don't get me wrong, Wales is beautiful, but in October, in the dark and cold, not so much. We were on a, what my Dad had called, a getting-back-together holiday. He keeps going on about how we're growing apart as a family. By 'family' he means him and Mum. You see, they had a little 'spat' in their marriage.

Earlier on, at the beginning of the year,Dad had had an affair with a lady form his work. Most of me hates him for that, but, terribly, another part of me can't blame him really. Mum had been getting really weird and distant around that time. Disappearing for random hours during the day, getting home late and not talking to anyone. At first Dad thought she was having an affair but now the best we can come up with is that she was trying to relive her youth. She'd turned 50 at the end of last year and she kept saying how old she was now, although you wouldn't know it, looking at her. To this day we do not know where she was or what she was doing.

Anyway, my dad started to get irritated at little things, especially with me and Toby and our little, petty sibling squabbles. Mainly him saying how he knows everything and is so cleaver and me telling him that he's really not.

"You do not know every single thing Toby!" I say, for the hundredth time.

"Well if you can find one thing I don't know the answer to, I'll give you 10p." He said, waggling his eyebrows and making them dance on the top of his big head. But what was I supposed to say? The sad thing was, he did know quite a lot

"Um mm..." What did I say? "Well..." One thing he knew nothing about... "Err..." I could hear him sneering. Ah ha! "OK. Work this one out butt head. What was Olly Murs' latest hit single?" I smirked and stuck my tongue out at him as he shook his head, frowning.

"That doesn't count- "

"Ah ah ah you said anything. Ha. Looks like your stuck! 10p it is then, fess up!" I jeered and pocked him in the ribs. Only he did it back. And ten times harder. I squealed, trying to get away from him but that was pointless. Dad had been sitting on his laptop next to us in the kitchen, and he suddenly stood up, knocking the chair back as he did.

"Will you two, for once, BE QUIET?!" He shouted, his face reddening.

That was the first time Dad had really shouted at me and Toby. It wasn't pretty. So, yeah. Scary times. But that was only the beginning of a whole lot more ugly coming our way. Because then came the bigger, nastier arguments between Mum and Dad. Arguments about nothing in particular. They'd never really fought before which is what made it all the harder for me and Toby. Dad kept telling us that we weren't to worry and that everything is going to be ok. I kept saying we weren't worried. That's bullshit of course. My parents were inches away from getting a divorce, so I think I was entitled to panic. All manor of things started going through my head. All the things that could go horribly wrong. What if they get remarried to other people? Will I hate their new partners or they don't like me? Toby is turning 18 at the end of the year, what if he leaves me alone with the people who don't like me? But that last thought is completely ridiculous. Toby wasn't going to college or uni. God knows why. And when it comes to him protecting and looking after his kid sister, he does it pretty well. He was always there as a shoulder to cry on, you know? All that sentimental crap, but it was true. So suddenly, if you can believe it, the bomb shell was dropped and things went from horribly bad, to terribly worse. One day, me and Toby were sitting in the kitchen doing nothing in particular, on our phones, typical teenage stuff. I mean come on, I'm 15, he's 17, what do you expect? My Dad had been out that morning on what he'd told us was a 'work' thing. However, in the afternoon he came tumbling in, drunk, and shouted, "I'm having sex with a hotter girly than you!" He pointed at my mum. Now I know he was drunk, but I don't think he meant that my mum was having sex with a hot 'girly' too. Mum had been in the middle of baking brownies when dad barged in. She doesn't work. At my dads entrance, she turned to look at me and Toby. I didn't know what to do. But I didn't think it was a good idea to stay and I didn't particularly want to. It was that moment I saw my mums face. She was dead silent and her face was motionless. All part from her eyes. They were ablaze with fire and hatred, but at the same time, they were soft and wet from the tears sliding down her flushed cheeks. I did the wrong thing, of course. I could tell that I wasn't wanted and I could tell Toby knew it as well, as he started to stand. I however, did the opposite. I thought I could prevent the deathly silence from turning into the inevitable argument that was coming. Toby was watching me. He knew exactly what I was thinking. He started to shake his head, slowly. But I ignored him. I turned my head to look at dad. He was unusually quiet, seeing how drunk he was. His face was blank, like a sheet of glass with my dads features had been placed over his normally kind one. I turned back to mum. "Mum?" I whispered, afraid to speak any louder. "Mum say something." I pleaded.