Through The Lens | ✓

14

I closed my eyes, trying not to cry that cold Sunday morning.

"I saw Papa at the cafe," I finally got out. Mama's face went from confused to shock. I hadn't told my mama about seeing her husband at the cafe yet. And I thought she should know.

"Oh, cariño (darling). I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone," she said, the pain and sadness clear in her brown eyes. Ever since my papa became an alcohol addict, I've wanted to stay far, far away from him.

I couldn't stand the smell of reeking liquor on his clothes, his droopy face, holding hatred and disgust towards my mama, his rumpled hair that I knew was from his many affairs throughout the night.

I stayed away from him successfully, most of the time. But it was easy since he was always out of the house. But sometimes, he would come home and sleep with mama. They'd be each other's affairs, but Mama was really just another one of his one night stands.

It all meant a lot to Mama, those nights under the covers. But to Papa, they were meaningless.

I bit my lip to hold back a sob that was threatening to escape. Mama slid her hand over and took mine, warming up my freezing cold hand. 

And Iris knew that something was up, and she came over and sat next to me. With Mama and Iris by my side, I felt safe again, but that nagging thought at the back of my head told me that he would be back, randomly without notice.

He could catch me off guard, make me afraid to even be in my own home.

The sob finally escaped from my lips. I broke down, my face crumpling with sadness and confusion. I drooped my forehead onto the cold wood table. Mama stood up from her chair, and pulled me up from my chair. 

She pulled me close to her, breathing in her familiar scent of jasmine and roses. I sobbed into her sweater, soaking the surface. 

And I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.