I don’t remember how old I was exactly at the time, but I remember that one of my earliest memories was of my dad arguing with my mum. I couldn’t have been more that five, because in my memory dad seemed to really tower above me. He was standing in the kitchen doorway looking at mum and mum was sitting on the couch crying. I was sitting somewhere in the space between then with my back against a book shelf. I remember that it was a time in my life were I was so young that I struggled to differentiate between the words ‘kitchen’ and ‘chicken’ and whenever I wrote the letter ‘s’ it was always back-to-front. That was an early memory; it wasn’t the only one.12
Mum and dad fought a lot when I was younger. And because none of us ever got hurt I though it was ok. Well not ok exactly. It was scary but dad would usually just get it out of his system and go home. Dad never hit me. In fact while he shouted at and intimidated mum he’d call me ‘princess’ (my sister was baby). Once he even put me one his lap while accusing mum of cheating on him. He just looked as if at any moment he would kill mum. But he’d never usually touch her. I don’t know whether that’s because my sister and I were there or because he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. 34
When they weren’t arguing they were co-existing. The same things always. Dad worked night shifts so he was practically always tired. Sometime he’d come by to our place for a quick nap. My mum would then start the same old ‘so? Are you going to give me any money for the kids?’ dad would tell her what she wanted to hear. Money was rarely obtained from him though. But none the less I loved him back then. He was my idol. I told him I was going to marry him once and kissed him in his freshly shaved head. He smiled shyly, he knew that when I was older I’d realise why I wouldn’t be able to do that. He always loved me more than Emma. He’d never dare say it though. He bought me a whole box of sweets from a corner shop once when he took us out. Sweets, sweet sweets. He knew the way to little kids hearts. Mum was the big bully because she’d tell him of for giving us sweets and spoiling our appetites when we came home for dinner. We were supposed to keep the sweets a secret but one of us would normally give it away. 56
Despite the scary arguments and the money affairs that I didn’t really understand, I loved daddy. But I was very little then. Now I don’t know any more. Why? Well he’s not even here. He’s not dead he’s just not here. He started to warn us that he was leaving quite soon after I came back form school in Croatia. I didn’t believe him though, he’d said things like that before. While I was there, for some odd reason, every thing changed in my mind. I realised that dad was not the man I though he was. I realised that all he’d EVER bought me were sweets or fast food and that was probably just to keep me happy and stop me from nagging him about it. Mum bought and gave me all the things that mattered-clothes, food, shelter…. Dad had never even walked me to school. I was angry. Wouldn’t anyone be? And the worst thing was that I didn’t know why he done all these things. I figured that he didn’t love me. Well…why should I love him? 78
When I came back from school in Croatia I didn’t kiss him or hug him or just engage with him like I used to. My sister still did. I didn’t. He noticed that. He confronted me one time and asked me directly ‘do I love him’. I told him I did-of course. Things went down hill from that-he’d become like a stranger to me and I only really saw mum as a parent. A few years later he left us. He’s in America now. Sends us stuff now and again and were supposed to see him in the summer but to me his leaving will always be his way of disowning me. It just the way I see it.910
It not the first time I’ve been rejected like that though. In Croatia my sister and I were probably the first black people (well were mixed raced actually) that people had ever seen. Some people thought our skin colour was beautiful most made our lives slightly harder. Their racist comments weren’t exactly appreciated. They did lower my self esteem and confidence even though at the time I didn’t realise it. However what hurt me the most was that… I felt like my mum didn’t care that this was happening. She was well aware of it she just didn’t want us to leave Croatia because the ‘education was better’. Even when I told her that I didn’t care about that but she convinced me to stay. Don’t know how she did it. 1112
Mum and I used to be close; I don’t think we could possibly hate each other more now. Well at least we say things like that to each other. We probably don’t hate each other but it’s definitely not love. 1314
Ok, so I’m not THAT overly screwed up, I haven’t been abused or any thing similar (not that I know of) but it’s my story so far. It’s not all bad but it’s just the main parts (I’m a bit of a pessimist that might be why everything is so negative. And I am happy now, well happier. I have friends and I’m normal. I guess?15
erm go easy on me its my first story :P
Comments
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Wow
this is realy good i like it a lot plz write more.
Always lana
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thanks for the comments shah
i dont usually read fantasy but i'll give your stories a go
oh and its nice to know that there are people out there that haven't been hypnotised by 'twilight'
p.s. the story is true
kinda depresing though
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In case this story is true,
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Hm..... I'll start by saying that I hope it's a story and not a real account of your life. People around us, sometimes love us so much that we don't realize it. By the way, there were no grammar and spelling etc etc issue and I look forward to read more of your work. ROCK ON!
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