When I was younger, my dad always seemed to leave back and forth never staying with the family I’d wish he’d built. He had two sides to him: it was as if he was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The Dr. Jekyll side always telling corny jokes, cooking five course meals, bonding with what our family should have always looked like, or singing old Elvis songs. The Mr. Hyde side always appearing as if he had rolled in sweat. He would start spewing words of profanity from the rooftops, throwing violent tantrums, and showing abusive tendencies. A complete nightmare. Although, one wouldn’t think such a man would turn into a monster. His skin white with no scars, his voice with an accent anyone could fall for, his hair wavy as if the sea were on his head, his body built impeccably well, and his eyes that fooled you by their lightness. …show more content…
My mother, father, and I all once lived in my Abuelita’s house in Florida. One night he came back home smelling of liquor. If I lit a match near him, he would for sure go up in flames. My mother stood sternly near the doorway with her arms crossed; eyes wild and teeth gritted. She was ready to tear into him like a wolf. I sat on my Abuelita’s couch watching her get angrier, and angrier by the second. As he walked by her, she scolded him, but she didn’t seem ready for what he was about to do next. He snapped and it was as if the world had shifted. BAM! He had smacked my mother into the glass shelf that held all of my Abuelita’s pictures and trinkets. Glass shattered all over the yellow tiled floors. He tried to strike her once more, but she managed to dodge his fist. His fist went flying into what was left of the glass shelf. Soon blood joined the glass lying on the