Why?!

Laura De Jesus

Monologue

Why did my mother marry an alcoholic?

            Its 11 o’clock on a Saturday night, where I would be usually out and about with my life I’m sitting here in my living room looking at my mother cry I wonder why. (Looking at her), He does not love her, or us. She continues to stay, while he continues to beat and threaten her. Love is a two way street and she is the only one trying. Every night he comes home, drunk. Now that he does not work, he has no reason to stay sober.

She says she stays for us, but I know she knows we don't need him. He does nothing for us, buying us the things we want; he thinks that’s good enough. In reality, all I have is hatred. I get tired of seeing my mother suffer. I don't want to come home another day after school, rather be out all day and night.

Seeing him tumble and slur out words is now old. Being born and raised with an alcoholic father is not the “dream”. Crying herself to sleep every night is stressful. Not even able to complete what I need to thinking is she okay in the back of my mind, I’m tired of seeing her hurt. The bruises my mother has are invisible, but I, her daughter can see.

Being at school, and out with my friends is what keeps me sane. Out of my house, I feel safe and feel free. Once entering the place I call home it’s a nightmare, I can’t take it anymore. Feeling threatened and unknowing of what can happen next is not normal for a person of my age. Fifteen year olds are supposed to be enjoying life. So why am I sitting here in my living room crying my eyes out?

Tears rolling down my face bring back memories. (Looking at my mother) I want to love and spend time with him; I mean he is my father. But the fear has taken over me completely. I’m scared to have the knife put up to my wrist again, scared to say what I feel because of the fist coming to my face. I should not be afraid of my own father; he is one of the reasons that I am here.

I’m sitting her looking dumb, when I want is for my prayers to come true. When my grandmother was alive, everything was great, always happy and smiling. After that, is when the addiction to alcohol came along. Depression is difficult thing to over come, but we were here, why did he not come to us? Feel as though we are not good enough.

Grand mom, please, (Looking at the photograph of grandmother), I’m begging you to please help my dad. I may not feel the same way I did before, maybe I don’t feel anything towards him, but I know that he is needed and wanted by my mother. Help my father be able to get through his issues and become the same person he was before he lost job. I am begging you, make it go back to the way it was when we were all happy.