I held my sister close to me as my parents fought downstairs. This was the third night this week that they have gone at each others throats, and I was done with it. My sister was scared and I couldn't just sit around and wait for them to get a divorce.
"Anna, I'll be right back." I say as I disentagle my little sister from my arms. Her pale green eyes stare at me, tears falling gently from them.
"Where are you going?" She whispers, too afraid to raise her voice. To afraid to call attention to herself.
"I'm just going to talk to Mom and Dad. I'll be right back, I promise." I try to keep her calm.
As I walk into the kitchen, I brace myself for their fury. They weren't always so angry at each other, but something happened this past year. My carefree mother had suddenly started worrying over my father, where he was and with whom. My father lost his temper, and went away for longer periods of time. Being seventeen I knew that marriages could fall apart, and people could stop loving each other.
With this knowledge in mind I said the words I had been thinking for a while.
"Mom... Dad... You need to get divorced. Now."
YOU ARE READING
Waiting for Yesterday
FantasyAs I took the dry photos down off the drying line, I noticed smudges on a few of them. Inspecting them closer, the vague smudged shapes turned out to be the silhouettes of people. "That's weird," I say to myself, as I turn to look at all of the ot...