Me and my dad were washing our clothes. And he went to the kitchen then he called me.

"Yes dad?"

"You know what? I'm going to throw my heart away."

"Your heart?" I asked

"Yes, my heart. I was trying to take care of you and keeping your mom with you as much as possible but if she hits me in front of your little brothers -it's over. I'm throwing my heart away. "

It was wierd to hear him open up in a sentimental way. Because his way of talking is more like: "I didnt sleep all night."

"You didn't?" I asked once again.

"No because you cried yesterday,I couldn't sleep fo the whole night, you donkey." (<-- donkey sounds mean but it really isnt in my language. Also he made me cry so I guess he felt guilty)

And it is at these moments when my moms mental illness gets the best of us both.