Personal Narrative: Negative Changes in my Dad :: essays research papers

He makes me feel like I am like none-other, but not in a respectable manner. I remember his eyes, lifeless and dark. His smile had a revengeful look upon it, his canine teeth set in his mouth as if her were a vampire. His heart was cold and full of hate. I remember some of the memories as if they were yesterday. His words would cut me through me faster and deeper then any scalpel could. He smelled of cigarettes and coffee on a daily basis, but tried to always cover the smell with the horrendous Brut cologne. It seems clichà © but all I remember is all the bad, none of the good. I remember the late night fights. All I did was sit in the corner of my plain room. Staring at my plain room that only consisted of a dresser that stood up to my chest, and a twin size squeaky bed. My covers were pink and right above and to the left of the bed, in the corner of the ceiling draped a net filled with my stuffed animals. I would sit and think, trying to drown out the screaming. The words of hate were thrown like daggers from dad to mom. I remember hearing the thundering of mom going down the stairs, but it was not by her own will. I remember hearing the screams of â€Å"I hate you† being yelled at dad, and the yelling of â€Å"You cheated, and you were caught, just admit to it damn it!† I remember when we moved for the second time, the fighting progressively got worse. My mom gave my dad chances to come clean, and to be sorry, but the day where he would say â€Å"I am sorry† never came. My dad left July 4th, 2005 while I was away in New York and it wasn’t until I arrived that my parents told my brother and I that they were going to get a divorce. We were in my dinning room, my chair faced the bookshelf walls, to which I would spend all of dinner time staring at the picture of my grandfather’s picture. We ate meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and corn and green beans. The meatloaf hat tomato paste drooping on top, with sliced onions backed into the paste, the potatoes had sour cream in them to make them smooth. The corn lightly dusted with black pepper setting in a buttery sauce, while the green beans were simple and out of the can.