Temper, Temper

He was throwing bottles at us again
A Heineken bottle barely missed Mom's head and I had to duck and roll to dodge
A few bottles of Guinness
He stammered and slurred his words before he went towards Jenny
I wasn't having it, he could hurt me but not Mom, Jenny or the Baby
I stood in front of her and glared at him, stared him down
He hit me open-handed and I fell to the ground in shock
I slowly got up again and grabbed his arm before he could hit Jenny
He hit me with his other hand as Mom shouted, pleaded, begged for him to stop
Jenny was sobbing, Mom was weeping, the baby's cries were so loud not even
the TV could conquer it
I got hit again and again and again
Before he just threw a empty bottle of tequila in my direction and sat down in his armchair
He was my dad and he had a bad temper
Five years later, he did the unthinkable
Put my little sister into a grave
I'll never forget how he did that