I stood at the bedroom door. Rigid and shaking. From what, I'm not sure of yet. Emotions were pulsing through me like water running through pipes. Anger, fear, curiosity, and shock were the emotions. My body was the helpless pipes. I could not move. Not because I was frozen. It was because my eyes locked on my father. On his hands. His lips. What I saw through my pained eyes was my father with a woman. This would seem normal, considering my mother and father displayed their affection frequently, but it wasn't. Because this woman was not my mother. She didn't have the thick chocolate locks of hair lingering at her elbow. Or the conjoining oceans of green placed perfectly above her nose. She was not my caretaker, my source of guidance. This woman radiated the word "betrayal" from every corner of her young body. She was also too young. Finally, my-I was cut off by how this word sort of doesn't apply to him anymore registered the fact that I was watching him. His 16 year old son was watching him cheat on his mother.
"OH!d**n it." A dozen and two expressions flickered across his rueful face. Mostly shock and pain.
"Who the h**l is that James?!!" My personal h**l of a woman almost asked my same question. As if I wasn't even standing here, teeth grinding together, fists clenched hard enough i could brake my own fingers, she didn't even move from the way her arms encircled my father. But he awkwardly disentangled himself.
"Son, I promise. It's not what it looks like." He said the famous lines shamefully. I still couldn't speak. Instead, I simple turned around on my heels and walked out. My father took my movement the wrong way and covered himself and his-it hurt, to even think it-partner with a quilt that was lying on the bed. Like I haven't seen a woman in a bra before. I continued to walk down the long violet colored hall. It was my mothers idea to have our hallway painted purple. At first, I objected, but now I was just happy to be in the presence of something that was my mothers idea.
please be honest!
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