Sometimes, my parents could get vey physical when they were angry. My dad wasn’t so bad. My mom was the one who would lose control of herself. Once, I had a friend sleepover at my house, and while I was watching her leave in her dad’s car, I got this feeling of dread as my sister started talking about her grades. She failed Algebra, and waited for my friend to leave before she said anything. She and my mom started yelling, and my sister started to blame it on her teachers which made my mom very because it was obviously an excuse. She began hitting her, so I stayed out of it, but then I heard this huge slamming sound. So I walked away from the window and turned the corner to see my mom pinning my sister into the ground and slamming her head down into the wooden floors repeatedly, shoving the report card in her face and screaming so loudly that spit was flying onto the floor. It terrified me, so I threatened to call the cops and she just started screaming at me to mind my own business, so I hid behind a large armchair in the corner of a different room until she stopped. But that isn’t where it ended.
My dad came home a few hours later and there was more arguing. My sister started cursing at them and threatening to run away or kill herself. My dad told me to just go to bed, so I was sent to my room, but I couldn’t sleep because of all of the yelling. Then there was a bunch crashing sounds and I opened my door to see that my mom was going ballistic and thrashing my sister’s room. All of the clothes, her school notes, her drawers, everything was ripped apart and thrown into a huge pile in the center of the floor. My sister then ran away.
That’s when I feared for my life. I legitimately thought my mom would kill me in her rampage of anger. My dad was busy trying to follow my sister and find her, so I was left alone in the house with my mom, who kept throwing stuff. At one point she hit my leg with one of the drawers she threw out into the hallway and I realized that I should move. It was stupid, but I was so terrified of her at that point. So in the end, at two in the morning, on a December school night, I put on a jacket and was forced to go drive around in a car with my mom, who I kept snapping at me to stop crying, to look for my sister. After we found her, I stayed up listening to her cry and put her room back together. Then we woke up at eight o’clock and went to school the next day as if nothing happened.
My sister was being a brat and was seriously unmotivated in learning and totally ruining her chances of getting into college and didn’t even care. However, the way my mom lost it that night was not ok. It wasn’t the first or last time it happened, and I eventually got sick of her nonsense and learned to stand up for myself when I got older. But remembering that day still makes me tear up and shake. It’s not as serious as some of the other stories, but my fear was legitimate.