Ask Yourself Research Paper

Do you ask yourself "Am I there yet?" Chances are, you asked your parents that question. Or you ask it in terms of a goal. It is a question that plagues me everyday and has since I was old enough to ask it. It started off as a tactic to annoy my parents, but it became much more to me. When I was seven years old my family had been driving countless hours to visit my grandparents. Being the devious seven year old I was, I sat and thought of ways to get attention or annoy my parents. And then it clicked: in my cartoons, kids would annoy their parents by asking if they were at their destination yet. And so I did. My dad answered with a sigh and gave me a curt declination. I paused and took a breath, giggling as I repeated myself. More …show more content…
My dad was still driven by alcohol and anger, but I learned to avoid him. That was until one night that I waddled into his room to wish him goodnight. He was drinking, as he did every night, and was messing around on Facebook. I climbed on top of his bed to hug him goodnight and he pulled me close and held me as he scrolled through the website. He eventually got to my page and went through my friends, scrutinizing my choices casually until he came upon my mother's page. He grew angry, demanding that I removed her from my account. I refused, almost playfully, before he forcibly shoved me face-down on the bed, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging until I sobbed out my password to him. He calmly removed my mother from my page and nonchalantly asked me why I was crying. I told him that he hurt me, and he apologized, keeping me with him until 3 am when my mother found me and sent me to …show more content…
I kept track of them, almost as if it were a game, and tried to predict when the next one would occur. Even though I didn't understand what was going on, I knew my twin brother shouldn't have to listen. I shuffled him to a room and closed the door, telling him to stay put and ignore to the screaming. I didn't understand why my mother always fought back, believing it better to be silent and adaptable to the unfavorable situation. Eventually I stalked out of the house and sobbed loudly on the porch, watching the bright light of the moon. It seemed like an eternity before I returned to a terrifying sight; my mother was being choked. My adrenaline kicked in and I begged him to let her go. Surprisingly, he did, and sulked back to his room as my mother sank to the ground. I ran to her and comforted her to the best of my ability, angering my dad and causing him to leave, disowning

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