May 20, 2008, the spring of my junior year of high school was when I heard that my father was going to jail for 18 months due to multiple infractions of drunk driving. As a result senior year was hard for me. I was living with my twin sister in our uncle’s house. It was not a home, but merely a living arrangement. Despite the adversity of living in a place I felt unwelcome; I worked so hard to show my father that if I could succeed, he could too. However, the night he was released my boyfriend, Will So, and I met with my father to see our new condo. When I walked into the room at the Ramada Inn I was welcomed by the almost forgotten scent of Old Granddad Whisky. It wasn’t much longer before I realized his lips had touched the bottle. “You’re just being paranoid,” Will said, but I knew better. Slurred speech, stumbling, the nauseating smell; I could just tell he was drunk. When we dropped him off I waited for my dad to t urn the corner before I ran into the bar that was attached to the inn. I asked the bartender if she had been working all night. She curiously answered, “Yes.” I slowly took a picture of my father and me out of my wallet and asked, “Did you serve this man?” The next thing I know I was collapsed in the parking lot, crying. My heart was broken.
I never knew how much alcohol could ruin lives. It ruined the respect I had for my father. It depleted all self motivation and killed my entire sense of senlf. It’s been two years and I’m still trying to revive it. Will my life ever be rid of this poison?
Word Count: 300
