Alyssa Granato

      Mrs. Scarcello


      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


              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...