I could hear the noise as I tried to sleep. “Oh, it’s just one of their usual arguments again”, I thought. My father came home late and my mother was crying loudly. Soon I realized this was different from other nights. My father was raising his voice, telling my mother to sit down and listen. I got up and could not help pressing my ears against the door.
“I told you already, I have work to do”, said my father. “Oh, really? This is the 100th time you told me that. I don’t want to believe you any more. Who knows what you were actually doing? How come you have work to do every night?” my mother knitted her eyebrows, kept scolding. “OK, listen. Whatever I do, I have my own reasons. Don’t keep asking stupid questions. I’m tired of you”, grumbled my father, then he went off.
“Craaaak”, the vase suddenly dropped off the floor. I startled, slowly half-opened the door, trying to keep at minimum noise. Now I could observe what was happening.
“I can’t stand it any more. You are driving me crazy. It’s over. I want to be released”, my mother stood up. My father turned back and stood motionless for seconds, staring at her. I thought he was going to apologize, but I was wrong. “Well, that’s the answer. I want to break up too. This marriage does make both of us tired, doesn’t it? Write a divorce petition and I’ll sign”, he sighed.
I already knew this before. I knew it would happen sooner or later. Since my father got a job with a high salary in a big company, he started to come home late usually. I went back to my bed, but could not close my eyes, hopelessly thinking of a way to heal my family.