Personal Narrative Essay: I Have The Best Parents Ever?

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“I have the best parents ever” was a phrase that was often said during my depressing childhood. I would smile and say “I do too” even though that was far from the truth. No one knew the secrets I hid or the reason why I never had any friends over. My dad was a truck driver that spent Monday through Thursday on the road. My mother was an alcoholic that could not be left alone by herself. Every Friday I wanted to crawl up in a ball and pretend I was a part of some wonderful family. But instead, I had to watch my mother and father get belligerently drunk and constantly beat each other.
As I was sitting in my last period class as a fourth grader, my teacher asks “who’s ready for the weekend?” Everyone in my class raised their hand, except for me. I had a terrible feeling in my stomach that my dad got off early and was at home alone with my mom. My teacher could obviously tell that something was troubling me, so she took me out in the hall to talk. As soon as
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I get in and ask “where is mom” and he tells me she is at home. I take a sigh of relief knowing that he doesn’t seem drunk and he knows where my mom is. About five minutes later we get to my house and all I can hear is my mother whaling my name. I go to the bathroom and see her sitting in a bathtub full of her own blood. I ask her what has happened, but it was clear to me she did not know herself. She says to me “you are the worst daughter ever. I was screaming your name while this was happening and you did not come.” I calmly ask her what happened and her response was “your father picked me up and dropped me on my back in a parking lot full of rocks.” As I get closer I can see the whelps on her back and the pain in her eyes. I was furious with my father. This had been going on for years and I still cannot fathom the reason why any man would want to hit a

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