A Last Dance

Time is a simple luxury that can be lost with the blink of an eye. And maybe I've been holding my eyes shut for far to long. Yesterday seemed so long ago; I can't even recall what happened. I've opened my eyes only to see what I feared. I've spent to much time gazing at the hands of the clock making lazy circles around and around. I understand why I've put myself away in the back of their minds, but maybe now it's time I become visible. But not now, not while my home is housing a secret war. Once the door is entered, you have joined the army, but what for? I've been killed; walking through harmful words carried on the backs of bullets. There are two sides: the gripping hands of alcohol and the hopeful ideas of my Mother. Unfortunately, the grasp of it is slowing starting to weaken her. I give her credit, she has a strong will. However, it's not strong enough to withstand the truth of the future
The sun bleeds into the clouds, slowly lighting the Earth. I walk aimlessly down the road. I'm in no hurry. I see children playing on their front yards, chasing after one another. I think why can't that be me? I dream of having a normal life, normal parents who don't make my life a World War II movie. I want to close my eyes and let Father Time fast forward my life. But my wish will only be added to the rest of those echoing behind a falling star. My house comes into view. I'm tempted to pass right by it, but I have no where to go. My fingers regrettably open the door; no one greets me or asks how my day was. No one even bothers to notice that I have returned home. I retreat to my room and shut my door. I'm constantly living behind enemy lines, trapped like a prisoner. I'm bound to my Father just as my Mother is. He runs through my veins. I will not let his habit become mine.
Screams fill the stagnant air and doors slam. Another battle has come to a completion. I can only wonder who will wave the white flag of surrender. Hours fly
by and my Father stumbles in drunk, as usual. My heart beat quickens, pounding painfully against my chest. I pray he goes straight to sleep. I don't want to lie anymore, I'm sick of making up excuses to how I receive such brutal bruises.
I'm waiting for the day when I can come home to find my Father's clock has timed out. Except this time neither my mother or I will be willing to place more
coins into his meter. Maybe that's a little sadistic of me, but if your constantly caught in the middle of his rage, it's simply euthanizing the demon that has taken
hold of his whole being. My mother and I are trapped in an Earthly hell. By no means would we try to escape, he'd come looking.
I often find myself sitting beside my Mother, comforting her. Her tears sliding down her worn out skin. It's killing me inside knowing I can do something to
stop this, but I'm being held back by my fears. When will I garner the courage to tell him to quit dancing with the devil and face himself as the addict he is? Tomorrow
will just be today repeated, unless I can tell him "You've had your last dance."
              It is tomorrow and just as predicted it's the same as before. Except today I feel like I have opened my eyes to accept the passing of time. I don't want to be the helpless bystander, I want to be the hero of war. I write out in my head what I'm going to say to him. The sun dips behind the horizon and I know it's time for him to leave. He always goes to a local bar in town called Joey's Pub, if I remember correctly. I take a deep breath in and step in front of him.
              " Father look at yourself. Do you see what you've become? I don't recognize anything about you; you have become a creature fueled by your addiction. Sure, go ahead and deny anything to do with it. You can say you've got it under control, but you don't. Look at Mom and all the pain you're causing her. Don't you care anymore? I'm your daughter, do you even remember me? You're forgetting all the lessons you used to strive to teach me. And after seeing first-hand the outcome of this, I can promise you I will never follow in your foot steps. So when you order beer after beer, just know your sipping away any hope and trust left in this family."
            His eyes stare blankly into mine as tears bubble to the surface. I turn my back and walk away. He grunts and continues out the door, just as I suspected. He has forgotten his role as a father, as a husband, as a friend. I'm done with him.
          The phone rings, it's two in the morning. A solemn voice explains the news to my mother. No one has to explain anything to me, I already know. My Mother is sobbing, but I can't seem to cry. He risked everything for a last dance with the devil and now his clock has been permanently stopped.