I didn't know much when I was little. I didn't understand why I had to waltz with my father nor the reason behind his waltzes. Waltzes generally symbolize love and romance but overtime I waltz with my father, I am filled with fright and dismay. He would beat me until the house was torn apart and distress flowed into me with each blow. He would relentlessly strike at me until his fists were battered with my blood. Only now, do I understand his cruel actions. He worked to sustain our family as we clung onto our lives. We saved every single penny so we could afford the simplest human necessities. Alcohol was his way to escape into his fantasies and create perfect waltzes but the only things he created were fearsome death dances. I don't know why
