Last time I talked about school right? This time I'll go into how and why my dad left. It wasn't his fault. This is what really happened. I was around the age of 4 or 5 and I woke up in the middle of the night. I just wanted to get a drink but instead my mother runs out of her room in shorts and a red shirt pinning my dad to the closet door. One hand pinning him and the other there was a knife it was a kitchen knife with a green handle. My dad in tears wearing a grey sweat shirt and jeans. I was in a over-sized teal long sleeved shirt. For a moment I froze, and then I could help but cry and scream. I said thing like "don't", "please stop", "let go", and "leave him alone". When she loosened her grip my dad ran. He didn't even get to say bye to me. I learned later that after that he lived in his car. He didn't have anywhere to go, then my grandma Mina offered him a place to stay with her. What my dad had to go through was hell. My dad shouldn't have had to endure that. I shouldn't have seen that. It was traumatizing to the point that sometimes that moment still plays in my head like a broken record repeating the same line.
