Acid Rain

I fell asleep around 4am… and I couldn’t remember the dream I had...if I even had one.

Can a person’s mind produce a dream in less than two hours?

I’m not sure; I’ll have to do some research on that.

Any whether, my slumber was interrupted by the hallow shouting of my father and mother. I wondered to myself “Oh…what is it this time? Why must he be such a pain in the ass at such an early hour?”

I thought it was just another routine argument. It was probably about bills…cigarettes… or something else futile. Worthless to argue about... There were no resolutions on those topics.

But then I heard something I had never heard before.

My brother’s voice joined the awkward harmony of shouting…

Now, I was nervous. I hugged the nearest pillow on my mother’s bed where I awoke, and it’s where I was wishing to fall asleep again... but that wish was in vain.

My father screamed at my brother. Words, in Portuguese of course, all formed together and became a blur to my ears. I couldn’t decipher what on earth the fight was about…but it was bad…terrible.

When my father screamed, not yelled, screamed, it was like a painful, skin-deteriorating acid slowly climbing up from my feet to my mind. It was that kind of scream that you’d be scared shitless to confront in the same room. That if you were too close, you would get spat on. The angry screams that shook the house…shook my heart and soul.

I sat up in the bed with my heart in my throat. It normally wouldn’t scare me as much if it was just my mother and father. But my brother, too?

My brother and father have never been on good terms. Then again, who is, when it comes to my dad?

Besides me, of course. For some strange reason, I’m the only one in the family he acts like he cares about... He loves me... he spoils me…and kisses and hugs me when he remembers how to act like a human being with emotions.

It’s a rarity, but it happens. That’s more than anyone in my family has ever gotten after the age of 13.

I’m 17, now. And I consider myself lucky that he’s old and doesn’t have the heart or power to yell at me like he still does for my siblings and mother.

My brother’s voice reached the same acidity in a matter of seconds… and that shook through me so terribly that not even an earthquake could compare.

My brother, who’s patience is limited…but who’s always here for us... for me…and my mom... He’s helped build our house…our home. He gave me every little piece of technology and every little knick-knack and almost every little thing I’ve ever asked for. All without a second thought.


I was wide awake, now. Not even the comfortable bed and the Gods of sleep themselves could pull me back to my simple slumber.

A few times I heard my brother stomp up the stairs to his bedroom. Swearing in English, but yelling in our language.

“Fuckin’ guy… always knows how to piss people off in the fuckin’ morning..” he muttered before he screamed something else incomprehensible and slammed his bedroom door.

I looked at my cell phone. It read “6:13am”

I quietly wondered to myself if my best friend would mind if I called her. I know she wouldn’t... and I needed to cry to someone. This was destroying my mind.

I called, and she didn’t pick up. I closed my cell phone and my shoulders involuntarily hunched up when my brother’s door was slammed once again. He ran down the stairs to scream at my father again... it was back and forth.

My father interrupted him, and my brother did the same. But their voices constantly reached higher levels of unbearable toxicity. My mother said something too, and I could hear the tears in her cracking voice.

I couldn’t be by myself any longer. I got off the bed, leaving the phone behind, and walked quickly and quietly across the hall to my own bedroom, to find my niece who was sleeping over for the weekend, awake in bed. I didn’t look at her; I simply closed the door behind me and climbed into my bed with her. She made room for me and we were silent for a few seconds.

“What are they fighting about?” She asked me… I know she didn’t understand Portuguese, but even though I did, I couldn’t answer.

“I have no idea..” I finally said, “But I think it’s bad. I think my dad wants my brother to leave…but I won’t let him…he can’t leave... He can’t le-” and at that point, I broke down and started to sob… She hugged me tight and cried with me…

After about 5 more minutes of screaming…of acid rain falling in my home...of slamming doors, and some more swearing that my niece could hear and understand clearer than I’d like her to, things settled down.

We laid there for some time, and then heard a car door slam...and then another...and then my father’s van drove away. I had wondered where who went. I looked out my window just to make sure, and it was just my father’s van gone. My mother’s pathfinder was still in front of the house.

My niece and I cautiously descended the stairs… waiting to find either my father blowing fumes from his nose, or my brother doing the same.

All we found was my mother sitting on the couch, sipping coffee…with tears in her eyes.

We both rushed to her and hugged her and kissed her head..

“Where are they?” I asked solemnly.
“Work...” She quietly replied.

I had forgotten that they worked together today. The thought that they took the ride together never really crossed my mind until now.

All I could do was hug my mother, and tell her everything would be ok… and agree with her every time she stated how my father was such an asshole, jerk, bastard, etc.

I realized that I’ve been feeling nauseas since I awoke to the tremors of the house. My niece and I walked to the kitchen and we both grabbed drinks. She got soda, and I got myself some water…anything to calm down my stomach.

As we approached the stairs, we both turned back to my mother almost simultaneously.

“We’re going up now…ok mom?” I asked quietly.

All she did was nod.

We went upstairs, back to my bedroom. I sat on my bed, against the wall, and she sat next to me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and just stared at nothing. I thought to myself, ‘Why am I so awake? I hardly got two hours of sleep... I should be exhausted.’

But I wasn’t. I was wide awake.

And as soon as that thought hit my mind, my body suddenly fell back and drifted off into a deep, splendid sleep.

A sleep that had ended too soon, just like all the others.