Any other day (Daniel Sharman)

Chapter 3

My friends and I returned back to their flat later in the evening. It had been such a great day, and we were all pretty wired, and not at all tired, so we decided to pull an all-nighter. Why not, right? We hadn’t done that since high school, and we could act like responsible adults some other time. We sat on the couch, turned up the music and started singing along, laughing. Sometimes we would get up and dance around for a while until we were all out of breath, and then sit back down. It felt like the good old times. As it neared 2AM, we stopped the music, and the room suddenly went very quiet. Suddenly Emily spoke up. “I know you probably don’t want me to say this out loud, but I’m really proud of you for today” she said sincerely. Charlie nodded. “I am too, actually. Something about it just feels right, like I can’t fight it. It’s odd. God, listen to me. I sound like someone out of those god-awful chick flicks you guys love so much”. They laughed at me. They do really love those movies, though. I smiled, but the mood soon went somber, as my mind wandered to some rather unhappy memories. Memories I had tried to forget; memories that have had a rather unfortunate impact on me. They noticed the change in mood, and knew what the problem was. “Your parents’ marriage wasn’t a real representation of what love is. You can’t let it hold you back all the time. I know it scares you, the idea of your relationship turning out like theirs, but it won’t, okay? I promise it won’t. You’re nothing like your parents” Emily said. I didn’t know what to say. She was right about most of it, but the last bit I was unsure of. No one can really be nothing like their parents. Some parts of me are similar to parts of them. I can’t deny that. The question is, how will those things impact me later on? Will my personality change, and become more similar to theirs? My mind went back to an evening a few years ago.

It was New Years Eve, and my parents had agreed to spend the evening at a friend’s place. I had stayed home. Being afraid of fireworks, and not a big fan of New Years in general, I didn’t see a reason for me to go. Later on during the evening, though, I decided to go for a quick visit. I called my mom on the phone, and asked her to meet me outside. I was always very shy, and the thought of walking in alone scared the shit out of me. As I arrived, she was waiting and we went inside. There was a lot of noise, as they were all talking and enjoying themselves, and they had had a noticeable amount of alcohol. I had been there for a couple of hours when the mood suddenly changed. They had all discussed the issue of drunk driving, which had left one of the guests upset, and she had left the room to sit for herself. My mom went after her. As she came back, she looked at my dad. Suddenly everything blew up. My dad got up from his chair and banged his hand into the table, and yelled something at her. She had purposely provoked him to get a reaction out of him, and she knew that when he was drunk, it was inevitable, unlike when he was sober, in which case, he would hardly react to anything. I quickly went into defense-mode. I don’t know if I was defending my mom, my dad or myself, but I raised my voice at my dad trying to calm him down. He walked out the room, put on his shoes and left the flat. My mom asked me to follow him. As I was walking out, I heard her tell a story to the remaining guests. Apparently when my parents had been married for a couple of years, they had had a fight, after which my dad trashed the house. I never knew of it before, but apparently the police were called. I believe most of the guests were in shock as she told the story, but I swiftly left, not exactly wanting to hear the rest. As I walked out, my mind went back to another event several years prior. I had been only about 5 years old at the time, but the memory still stood out in my mind as if it was yesterday. We had been to a gathering similar to this one, and with the same people. My dad had been drunk, and my mom had provoked him. Pushed him into the car as we were leaving, which caused him to grab her and hold her against the wall. Being only 5 at the time, I ran crying inside, scared out of my mind. I was given an ice cream and we soon left. As we got home, the same occurred. My dad grabbed my mom for reasons I no longer recall, and she grabbed my hand and dragged me outside, while I was barefoot, and we ran to a friend’s house further up the road, where we stayed for a couple of hours before returning. That experience left me scarred, and now it felt like it was happening again, only this time I was 18. I caught up with my dad, who talked about how he felt like my mom had looked at him like he had been responsible for whatever happened. When we got home, my dad sat on the couch, while I tried to calm him down still. When my mom returned home, the waves were going high, and my dad grabbed my hands trying to get to her. He didn’t hurt me, and I managed to calm him down again, but it left me more scarred. My dad had actually grabbed me. It may not have hurt physically, but it did emotionally. About two hours later, we were all three in bed, the issues seemingly resolved, but in my mind, nothing was resolved. The next morning, I stayed in bed till late noon. I had no desire to get up and face what had happened the night before. I did eventually, though, and while I was eating my breakfast, my dad came to my room to apologize for the events of the evening before.