Getting Home...

After arriving home in one peice.Those nights happened often...The fears didnt end there.My drunk father would stagger about,my mom she was a nice drunk who always seemed to make it a bit easier to handle.My Dad once was sitting "cleaning his gun" in the living room while we watched tv and yeah...it went off.Missing my sisters head by inches and plowing a hole through the ugly trailer window sill( I came to love that ugly trailer).All the while Im thinking this is normal.My Mom lived in her own world of reading,exsessive excercise,and starving.I seen it all.I never thought it would do anything to me.It did.I would lay in bed at night plucking out every single one of my eyelashes staring at the blurry light of my nightlight...Yup normal.......I thought...And every night I would wonder if drunk Dad would burn the trailer down messing with the woodstove.Or worrry that my Mom wouldnt take her heart medication because Dad told her she didnt need it.He worked hard and took care of us.That was jist of him.Then. As years went by I seen my Mom starving more.We would eat dinner,she would eat a half an apple and work out in her ugly 80's leotard until she was skin and bones.Skin in bones.Thats what we strive for isnt it? I found out one day my Mom wasnt home anymore.She was in the hospital 40 miles away.She had done it.The skin and bones thing.Now all I had was Dad.......