Divorce
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- Category: English: Poetic Works
- Date Submitted: 12/14/2010 07:42 AM
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Alyssa Granato
Mrs. Scarcello
ENG3U
23 September 2009
“ If you’re so unhappy with your life why don’t you leave your children and go
run off with that bitch of yours, you obviously do not care about them”. An outburst such
as this is not a common occurrence in a family environment, but to my scope of
normalcy, it was just another evening in the midst of the war that I painfully referred to
as home. The façade of the perfect family had begun to fade and my innocence stolen in
the battle between the two I had held most dear to me. During the deterioration of my
family I was subjected to a metaphoric experience, thus resulting in my current state of
being.
My siblings and I sat idly by as my parents engaged in an all too familiar war,
which grew more violent by the day. As the battles increased I was sworn to secrecy. No
one was to know that my father was involved with another woman, and that my mother
was indeed aware. I soon became a solider of this war. My duty was to protect the family
image. “What goes on in this family is no one’s business but our own. No one is to know
about this”, was the lecture I often received after another variation of the same argument
between my parents. My second duty was to protect my siblings, I being the only one
who knew the true origins of my parent’s deep embedded hate for one another. I would
often dream up stories excusing my parents’ behaviour to tell to my hysterical younger
brother. The stress of hiding the dark secrets of my family amounted and I began my
descent into a haze of confusion and insecurity, all at the impressionable age of eight. My
Granato 2
once vibrant personality faded into the depths of this battle. I became consumed by the
hostility, which engulfed my life. My ability to...
Mrs. Scarcello
ENG3U
23 September 2009
“ If you’re so unhappy with your life why don’t you leave your children and go
run off with that bitch of yours, you obviously do not care about them”. An outburst such
as this is not a common occurrence in a family environment, but to my scope of
normalcy, it was just another evening in the midst of the war that I painfully referred to
as home. The façade of the perfect family had begun to fade and my innocence stolen in
the battle between the two I had held most dear to me. During the deterioration of my
family I was subjected to a metaphoric experience, thus resulting in my current state of
being.
My siblings and I sat idly by as my parents engaged in an all too familiar war,
which grew more violent by the day. As the battles increased I was sworn to secrecy. No
one was to know that my father was involved with another woman, and that my mother
was indeed aware. I soon became a solider of this war. My duty was to protect the family
image. “What goes on in this family is no one’s business but our own. No one is to know
about this”, was the lecture I often received after another variation of the same argument
between my parents. My second duty was to protect my siblings, I being the only one
who knew the true origins of my parent’s deep embedded hate for one another. I would
often dream up stories excusing my parents’ behaviour to tell to my hysterical younger
brother. The stress of hiding the dark secrets of my family amounted and I began my
descent into a haze of confusion and insecurity, all at the impressionable age of eight. My
Granato 2
once vibrant personality faded into the depths of this battle. I became consumed by the
hostility, which engulfed my life. My ability to...