SNAPSHOT! very personal(but i'm okay with it)

Intense Moment:

I remember sitting in my, at the time, pastel purple room working diligently on my seventh grade math homework. It was a nornal day, so I thought, until my dad came home early. He was kind of feeling out of the ordinary and got the urge to actually get the mail. He noticed something odd, a letter that made him feel funny. So he opened the mystery piece of mail. Not too long after my mother walked in the door after her long day and saw my dad just kind of looking over the mail. She felt like something was wrong when my dad didn't even acknowledege her. All of a sudden I hear my dad ask my mom to sit at the table with her. I become suspicious so I quietly set down my pencil and walk to my bed. The walls at my house are pretty lame so I hear everything downstairs. I sat holding my breathe so I wouldn't miss a word and heard my parents arguing and yelling and arguing and some more yelling. I could hear my brother turn up the volume on his TV, he too was sitting in his room but unlike me he didn't care to hear it. I was so noisy and I wished I hadn't been. I actually wished I hadn't even been there that night. My stomach became tight and my mouth ran dry as I still sat and listened for over an hour. Finally, my eyes begin to gently water when I hear my mother sobbing too. All I hear is, "I'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry." This makes me feel sick on my stomach, because I know something BAD is happening. As I anticiapate my mom or dad to stop talking, I hear my mom rush outside with the dooor slamming behind her. Her black Conocorde Chrysler starts up and she pulls out of he driveway. I feel like the air is thick and I can't gasp any of it. I want to run after her and go with her but my body freezes in amazement. Could this really be happening to my family? As I grow angry and red in the face my hands become clamy and I start to pack my own duffle bag thinking like i'm going to run away...not. I hear saddened foot steps come down the hall and into my room. It's my dad, tall and skinny, with the look of depression on his face. He quietly calls my brother into my room and lets us know what is happening. I pour out in tears and feel even sicker on my stomach. My dad comforts me and lets us both know things will get better and will be okay. The intensity of that night was high, with heart pounding adreneline, sweaty palms, and tears pouring like Niagara Falls, I knew this moment was perfect to type.