Deception
703 Words
Sometimes, when I was in my late teens, I would often find myself sitting outside on the porch, thinking about life in general. Too many times I had a drive and passion to do well in life, to take care of my family as they took care of me.
I've always been the type of girl that didn't care too much to fool around in the lunch cafeteria or the back of an old Mustang in some crappy old dirty forest road after three shots and a joint.
Yes, I was no virgin and no saint, but I had a filter and a system that got me through my crazy teenage years. I would party and yet I was able to be a good girl.
I would often define love as air. You cannot live without it. Something about the feeling of making someone desire you, yarn for you, gives you incredible strength. I like making things for the person I adore and cherish. Small things like cooking or leaving a favorite book on the table alongside a big cup filled with some pitch-black sugared coffee. Sometimes, putting in a little more effort, especially at nights. Touches full of passion, intense caresses, hugs so strong that you can almost fill your bones crush. That amount of force is my engine. Without it, I cannot function in life.
Going through my parents' divorce was not easy. There were screams, loud noises, broken glass pretty much my entire childhood life. Up until one night when my father had enough of this bullshit. Yes, believe it or not, mother dearest had her way into driving him crazy. They were high-school sweethearts and litter did my mother knew is that I would pop up into the picture and f**k up her life at 17 years old. Can you imagine a beauty pageant Queen with her perfect life, money, cars, houses, and stunning boyfriend being so f*****g dumb to get knocked up 6 months before graduation?
Well, her family being insanely rich, having status and power, of course, decided that their beloved daughter betrayed them and threw her out in the street.
My father was not as rich as her, and yet the second he heard about me, he took charge of the situation. My mother never forgot him. She couldn't stand not having money to kill, jewelry, and couture clothes. I was the mistake of her life. Her diaries are still vivid in my mind. Every last word, everything stung me deep down into my heart.
How can a mother be so cruel and vengeful with her child, her blood? She carried me for almost 9 months. You would expect joy, happiness, love, and compassion. My father gave up on his life for me. I still reminisce that night. Thunders and bolts of lightning were dancing up high in the sky. The wind would carry out the drops of rain, hitting it against the windows. It was a horror.
Sick and tired of her crises, my father asked her for a divorce. I was 7 at the time. In a colorful blanket wrapped around my shoulders to keep me company, I was listening to them fighting downstairs. My heart was in my throat. Tears were rushing down my cheeks.
There was nothing left for us three as a family, as a whole. She said to him that I was nothing in her life, nothing but a simple child and she refuses to accept me. From the moment I was born, she desired to find ways to get rid of me. My dad smashed a plate up against the wall and his fist was just 2 inches close to hitting her. However, when he saw me upstairs looking at him as a lost deer in front of a car's lights, he threw her out in the street.
Then with his arms, he hugged me. We were crying like babies. Two months later, I was starting a new life with him in a different house, a different city, far away from mother.
''Everything will be alright Isa.''- he said to me. I wanted to believe him so badly.
Was I thinking at the time that I would lose my moral support soon? Absolutely not.
- Writer
