” I have to go baby.” He whispered
“Where are you going? When will you be back?”
When you’re five years old, it’s never easy to walk away not knowing where Daddy is going and if you’ll ever see him again. It’s not easy to see Mommy cry and wonder why she’s bawling when you think Daddy will be home that night for dinner. But 5 years old was 15 years ago and Daddy came back a different man. His eyes were cloudy and he smelled of liquor. Mommy was always black and blue and Daddy was always yelling. The curtains stayed drawn, and his den was always dim. He wasn’t my Daddy, he was a barely a shadow of a man.
I think he made me who I am. His hollow blue eyes reflect the pain my green. His deep shallow voice is the reason mine shakes.