The clattering sound of the loose bulbs were all I could hear… For a long while it kept on clanging, this probably was my defence mechanism to blockoff the sound of my mother’s continuous screaming. I grew up in a family with many characteristics, one of which was quite uncharacteristic. I had siblings of course which came with peculiar challenges that come with having relation, but my parents were the major aberration. My parents were once in love, I always tried to wrap my head around this thought, maybe because it never agreed with the norm. The norm which was my mother’s constant bickering and my father’s angry pounding. How could love turn to intense hate? , this cannot be the ideal trait. I loved my parents one way or the other, but their feelings of abhorrence was what they had in common for each other. In those days the fantasies of a united family haunted me, but I preferred to live in it than in my reality. Being the eldest I had to become the pacifier,for my younger ones that lived in the fire, the heat of my parents constant angry chatter. If I could ask for anything now that I am older, having been through much trauma, from my past experiences, it would be to be born another couples daughter. Now I hold to heart so much imagery of what could be and the so many maybes, but one thing I am grateful for is that I came out unscathed and I can say with confidence that I am a better parent to my babie