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My Secret To Happiness

It was the second time that my ears were subjected to the piercing sound of the slamming door. The last slam was even more painful. Not because it interrupted my sleep, but because of what caused it. After searching my blue and white, round spectacles, I shed a few drops of prayers from my eyes and embraced myself warmly in my favorite Pokemon pillow. “I regret every moment, every entity that led me to you,” my father was loud and fuming. “I’m sorry; please don’t let me fall,” the feeble woman standing in front of him, said in her low, shaky tone. It was the first time that the strongest woman turned this fragile. Peeking from a part of my bedroom door opened, I finally collected the nerve to face what was happening outside. “You must be sorry,” uttering the final words with rage in a deafening voice, my father slapped my mother hard. I closed my bedroom door and let my little heart explode into tears which I had been holding on for so long.
The next morning, bright sunshine along with a ray of the slightest hope enveloped me. The volcano that erupted every night, once again cooled down in the daylight. “Monday morning. Time to face the world, big hero,” I tried to cheer myself up and got dressed in my uniform. Opening the shoe section of my vast and updated wardrobe, I picked my shoes, and turned around to see how luxurious my bedroom actually was. A dark-blue colored bed, covered with the latest designed Spy Kids bed sheet. The copper-colored rug on the wooden floor made the room look even attractive, and the wallpapers added to the beauty of the room, too. The curtains; the window design; in fact the complete interior of this huge area was an evidence of how well-off I was. Gazing at my feet, I lowered my head and thought about how any other eight year old would just dream of all his desires to be fulfilled by a wish-granting factory called parents. While what I ever dreamt of was the constant nightmare haunting my family to go away.
It was both surprising and funny to later realize the fact that at school, the day became the best day my life has encountered. “Students of grade three-C, everyone must start painting now,” my art teacher spoke in her casual tone as she placed one blank card sheet in front of me. My eyes lit up as I picked up the brush and started blending the vibrant colours. I was trying to the fullest to remove the black and white part of my life that I thought would stay forever. And even today, flipping back the calendar, I find no art work and no creative attempt done by me comparable to what I painted that day.
Therefore, that afternoon when I returned home, it was surprising for me to notice that I was actually elated to enter the bungalow that I had always been unable to call home. I tilted my head to one side and grinned excitedly when I entered the lounge. My father calmly sat on the couch, skim reading through pages of a sport magazine while my mother had busied herself in the kitchen. “I have something to show to you both,” I said. My mother kept a packet aside that she had fished out of the grocery bag. In the next moment she was walking towards me with a cheerless smile, and that was because my father did not come to see what I had brought and instead waited for my mother’s turn to end. “This is the last time,” I spoke to myself and hurriedly grabbed my father’s hand. Without glancing up at his surprised face, I kept pulling him forward until he was standing beside the most beautiful woman in my universe. At last, I carefully freed my art work from my bag and displayed it in front of them.
In the next moments, the couple in front of me had tears of thankfulness in their eyes that only the three of us could understand. Turning on his right, my father looked at his wife’s face who had bore so much pain without a word of complaint. Taking her into his embrace, he realized there were no better shelter and no better comforting abode in the world for her. He wiped away her tears from the softest cheeks, and his eyes sought forgiveness. My mother rested her head on his shoulder and his arm around her promised that no fear would now come her way. That was the most exquisite moment that I have lived and the most comforting sight my eyes have seen. In that moment, I accomplished life.
Finally we had a combined family photograph with me lifted up in my father’s muscular arms, and my mother smiling her brightest smile. The painting was then hung on the main front wall in our dining area, with our family picture framed beside it. Let me tell you what the art work contained; I had painted all the moments that my parents and I had together since I was born. I had let some ordinary paints bring back the extraordinary happiness in my parents’ life. And it was that day that I realized that the secret to happiness lies in your parents’ happiness.



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