Unforgiven Past

Chapter Two

My history with women wasn’t so great, none of them understood me, or understood my past. They never really cared about me, they just used me for thing; like getting there hair done, and getting their nails done.

Leah was different, she didn’t care about my past, she didn’t care about money or what I had or didn’t have. She loved me for who I was, and I quickly fell in love with her too. Leah didn’t drink, didn’t party. She was different, when we went out she was always make sure that everyone would get home safe every weekend; designated driver was her thing.

I was worried I was going to loose her, or she might move on if I ended up doing jail time. A tear strayed down my cheek, as the reality of the situation begun to sink in. I didn’t want to loose her, every time I thought of my future, she was in it. I wanted her to be in my life for ever. But sometimes you can’t outrun your past- The people that were in it- Or what they had done to you.

Laying on the cold plastic mattress that night I couldn’t sleep. Every thing I had done in my past was playing through my head, like an old family video. It might seem insignificant to everyone else, but not to me. It broke back memories, happy ones, and also extremely painful one. But to make others understand me, I had to go back to when it all started, back to where it began.

I was seven years old, My little brother Harry was only a couple months old when our Dad died. I don’t remember much about my Dad, but I remember everything from the day of his accident. A strange lady pulling up in our driveway. I had never seen her before. She has black wavy hair, it was really fluffy. I was outside jumping on the trampoline as she approached me,

“Hey buddy, is your momma home? I really need to talk to her” she looked scared,

I nodded my head and pointed to the front door.

I stopped jumping curious as to why she was here, so I watched this lady as she walked up the stairs and knocked on the front door.

Mum came outside carrying Harry,

“Hi, are you Lara?” She asked,

“Yes I am, can I help you?” Mum asked confused,

“You don’t know me, but your partner-Greg, has been in a accident, his in a bad way. His about two kilometres down the road.” She pointed, “There are other people with him waiting for the ambulance. His fading in and out of consciousness but he told me your address and your name, and begged me to come tell me” She spoke so clear, and so quickly.

It took a couple of seconds for Mum to realised what the lady had said. Once Mum comprehended the words, she screamed and ran around the house grabbing her bag and locking the door. I didn’t cry straight away, because I didn’t understand what had happened.

The lady left pretty much straight away, she was wiping tears off her face when she walked back past me. Mum slammed the door and rushed to put Harry in the car,

“Get in Peter, quickly. Your Dad’s hurt” She said through tears as she strapped Harry in his car seat. Mum dropped us off at one of her friends houses.

I don’t understand what Mum had seen, or how she felt. But she tried hard to keep it together, for me and Harry. The next few days were a blur, Mum was crying a lot, and I was crying too. Even though I didn’t really understand death, seeing my Mum crying so much, and being told I was ever going to see my dad again, made me cry more.

I remember everyone telling me they were ‘sorry’ my dad had died. I hated hearing that word-sorry- it’s a simple word, with just five letters. But it was a word that meant nothing to me. It was going to fix anything, and it definitely wasn’t going to bring my dad back.

Loosing Dad was horrible, and hard; it changed everything. We lost our home. Then we had to move around. Mum was struggling, she tried to pretend everything was going to be okay. But I heard her cry every night when she was in bed. She missed our Dad.

I wish he never got on that motorbike. Mum always told him she hated it, she never wanted him to own one. Even though he had been riding motorbikes since he was eight years old, he knew how to control it and knew his limits. She would always say to him, every time he left to go for a ride,

“Be careful my dear- its not your driving that scares me. Its everyone else’s”

I understood why she worried now, and why she said it.