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Religious Traditions-Personal Narrative

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it was late, and my ears were still ringing from the scream-fest my mother decided to have with my dad. he came home late, drenching in the scent of alcohol and i couldn’t tell if he was tripping more over his own left feet or stumbling over slurred words he seemed to repeat. “you. you.” he mumbled, pointing his finger at my mom, while i stood scared behind her and she stood tall. in that moment she reminded of a lion. she was ready to jump and attack; protecting her cubs with her life. “go to sleep, tomas.” she said — more like commanded. she held that kind of authority in her voice. “mmm, with you?” he held this disgusting smirk. he looked hideous. he had bloodshot eyes, he smelled, and not to mention the bald spot on his head; he was getting old, and wouldn’t admit it. …show more content…

out here.” she turned and scurried me to her bedroom. she wouldn’t dare let me sleep in my own room with him acting the he was. “get to bed, mija. ya es noche; it is late.” i obeyed, walking in my favorite pink monster-high pajamas. mind you, i was only ten. “okay. bendicion?” i waited for her to give me my blessing, a religious tradition we had. “te amo.” “yo mas, mi vida; me more.” she kissed my temple as she snuggled into the edge of the bed trying to give her three daughters space on the bed and i tried not to fall over. i slept on the edge. i became annoyed with the rapping at the door, it woke up my little sister, but i and told her to sleep. i was tired, we all needed sleep. “nathalie, it’s daddy, baby.” he whispered through the doors and i remember being somewhat asleep, but not completely, and being able to hear these words loud and

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