Chuck E. Cheese Monologue

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As I lay in bed, I can see the time on my stove. 1:30 a.m. Just another sleepless night. What 's been keeping me up at night? Maybe it 's the shrieks of my mother 's petrified voice that still echoes through my head? Could it be the smell of my father 's puke that lingers in my nose or the emptiness inside of me that foolishly misses him? Is it the coldness that still runs downs my bones sending shivers down my body? Perhaps it 's the weight of the pressure that lies on my shoulders?
As I lay there in bed, I get flashbacks of terrifying nights. A younger version of me was sitting in the corner of my bed, staring with fearful eyes, as my father cornered my mother and punched her repeatedly while calling her worthless.
“Not in front of Betsy! Please— please, not in front of her.” Cried out my mother.
He hesitated, but walked away grabbing the third or maybe fifth Corona of the day. After 2 years of watching similar episodes, I lost my father, the one who would take me to Chuck E. Cheese 's and watch me as I slide down the purple slide, the one who would take me to Burger King and put a paper crown on my head full of ketchup, but also the one who would hurt the most beautiful women on earth, my mom. My father got deported. We were left with a huge
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He left behind a child who loves him till this day and a brokenhearted woman with a baby on the way. He never tried to contact me. Did he not mean the “I love yous?!” My mother didn 't have a job, because my possessive father never let her. She couldn 't continue to study, like she dreamt about in Guatemala. She barely made it past the 6th grade because of money, but here in the land of opportunity she couldn 't because of this man. That dream no longer was an option, she had two daughters now. We struggled tremendously. Once we lived in an apartment that had no heating system, the toilet water would freeze but we
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