In life, there are times when it becomes difficult for you to even see a way out. It seems as though no matter what you do, your hands are still tied. You still can't succeed and you just can't get over the hurdle.
I would say I felt like that over the course of my life.
When I was born, I had both of my parents in my life. I was the only child, but that was okay because the love they showed me was remarkable.
My mother, Leslie, was my rock. She was kind speaking, very smart, and loved cooking. She was vegan, so most of her meals were plant-based, but that was okay. She loved telling me stories before I would go to sleep at night.
My dad, Hardin, was my role model. He was the guy that seemed to be good at everything. I wasn't interested in fulfilling sports professionally, but he still taught me a few like basketball, soccer, football, and golfing to just bond. He taught me life lessons that I needed as a kid.
However, as I got older, I notice the change in my family was shifting just as much as I was in puberty.
When I got acne for the first time, my mother disappeared.
No trace. No reason. No looking back.
At first, I thought that day was just like any other day. It was a few days after my birthday. Everything was going fine --well, as fine as it could go in the Macaughlins house.
My parents were still fighting in their hush voices, but my birthday party was still filled with smiles.
I came from home looking for her but came up short. She barely left the house at times, so I thought that her time out won't be too long. Too bad, my waiting game got extended from that day for a full week.
"She's gone. Let it go" that was my dad's word.
Encouraging.
That was the first heartbreak I have ever experience. It made me change too. I got angry.
What did I do?
Why did she leave?
Why didn't she take me?
I got angry for every question that I had and couldn't answer. My dad didn't care to venture to dive into the conversation of my mother with me. He held it as taboo.
My path of being "bad" started from there.
When I sprouted, was when my dad first hit me.
He pulled me out of my room down to the backyard and order me to punch him. He claimed that in this world I needed to know how to defend myself. I didn't. So, he hit me. Repeatedly.
That day, I hid my bruises with a hoodie and unleashed my anger on others.
When I filled out with muscles was the day my father introduce me to The Oscuro.
YOU ARE READING
Protecting Raine✔
Teen FictionShe was only trying to get through her last year of school with her two best friends. But, he came back... Now everything is turning upside down and she's trying her hardest to stay strong, but she's drowning. Will someone save Raine?