As I looked up, I saw that it was finally my turn to go on the swings and I couldn't be happier. The queue for them was always long, especially during the afternoons, which was when my mummy and daddy would take me to the park. It became a regular thing for us to do on the weekend, and I loved every second of it.

Climbing onto the swing, I settled myself on the surface and started kicking my legs back and forth to start swinging. Looking to my left, I saw a girl around my age being pushed on the swing by her mum, making me feel proud of myself for being able to do it alone. My dad taught me how to swing, telling me to kick my legs back and forth with all the might I had and every time I managed to do it, he'd give me a kiss and a little tickle until laughter tore through my lips. 

Swinging back and forth on the swing and feeling the wind brushing my pinked cheeks and grazing through my shoulder-length curls brought a wide smile to my face. This was definitely my favourite part of coming to the park, apart from playing chase with my mum and dad. As that thought crossed my mind, I quickly willed myself to jump from the swing and ran towards them as they sat underneath our favourite big tree with a picnic blanket and some of our go-to snacks.

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The slam of the door echoed throughout the apartment building as I was leaving the elevator. Another slam followed not long after the first, but this time it was followed by shouts coming from my dad. 

This was not an unusual occurrence and I debated turning around and walking back outside, pretending that I was held up at school for a while longer. My fingers twitched towards the elevator button, desperately wanted to call it back to my floor and open its escape doors to me, but the voice inside my head stopped me. 

It was as if I had no control over my body, and instinct took over by leading me towards the green front door of our apartment where the shouting hit me like ice cold water. Mum and dad were facing each other from the opposite ends of the living room. My mum's face was red and stained with glossy strings of tears on both cheeks. Her hands were shaking slightly along with her legs which looked like they were ready to succumb to her weight at any moment. 

Facing her on the other side of the room was my dad , dressed in his work suit and tie. His stance was rigid although I could see pain deep within his chocolate brown eyes. As I looked closer at him, I noticed his tie was crumpled, almost as if he has been tugging at it and loosening it from around his neck, and the briefcase he usually never let out of his sight was nowhere to be seen.

Both my parents spare me a quick glance as soon as I walked into the living room, but soon returned to glaring at each other. Taking this as my opportunity, I walked to my bedroom to give them some space to talk through whatever issue they were having this time. As I closed my bedroom door behind me, the voices from the living room raised once again. I closed my eyes and tried to drown out the shouts and slam of doors, but once I heard the word 'cheated', there was nothing I could do.

The word ran in circles through my thoughts, over and over again. 

My mother cheated on my dad.

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'Oops I Did It Again' by Britney Spears plays over in my head as I'm watching my parents arguing again. The scene is so familiar to me that I don't react anymore. I've seen this argument so many times that I know exactly how it will play out. 

My mother will continue to apologise for cheating on my dad once again. She will be screaming and chasing him around the apartment, saying that this was the last time and that she will change.

My dad will be walking away from her every chance he will get, apart from a few rare times when he will stop and ask why she did what she did, and why she didn't just leave him instead of hurting him over and over again. After a few hours of this, my dad will break once again and forgive my mother with the promise of loving her more love and showing the love he has for her. Of course, he always blames himself.

As I watched my parents go through the same motions as before, I noticed a slight difference in my dad's attitude towards my mother. He didn't stop or talk to her once. His eyes were void of all emotion, there was no pain, no hurt, no shame and no love. There was nothing in his usually love-filled eyes. 

Once I got over the shock of that difference, I noticed another one. My dad was subtly picking up anything that belong to him and dropping it into an open suitcase in the hallway. My body and mind went into shock. My mother's voice faded away and became an incoherent mumble in the background of my racing thoughts. 

This was not their usual argument. This was not something they will come back from. 

"Goodbye Amber, I love you." 

A soft kiss was placed on my forehead, and just like that, he was gone.

My father was gone.

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A little background story of what happened in Amber's family. I know this has been kept a mystery for quite some time now, but I hope this clears things up a bit.

Vote and comment if you like.

Until next time xxx