The Ugly Truth

Chapter 3 - A Disappointing Man

My name is Ana Jones.

On the same day, the 13th of november, one year ago, I lost the 3 most important men in my life.

When they say that 13 is unlucky they aren't kidding.

I used to think of 13 as my lucky number.

I would get a really good grade.

Find a twenty dollar bill lying on the ground.

Get an unexpected gift from my parents.

All that related to the number 13.

But now on that day my brother was murdered.

My boyfriend disappeared.

And two weeks after Kyle's assassination my dad left us.

He remarried with a rich woman in the south of the country without even looking back.

Maybe they had an affair and Kyle's death was his way out.

I have no idea why he left.

The reason he gave my mother to explain his departure was that I reminded him of Kyle.

I reminded him of his perfect son who could of done so much in life.

He could of been a famous pianist.

He had amazing potential.

But me, not so much.

I believe he was sad that I wasn't the one who died.

Sometimes I think it would of been better for everyone.

"But you are not dead and you can't continue living in the past."

I remind myself of my psychologist's wise words.

When my brother died my mom got me an appointement with her.

Her name was Karen and she was really sweet, but the sessions never really helped.

I couldn't tell her half of what happenned the day my brother died, nor my suspicions about whom the murderer was.

We talked a lot about my dad's betrayal and how I tought he was going to be there for the rest of my life, but wasn't.

He started his own family in a far away city.

He never called

He never visited.

He was just gone.

***

(Flashback)

My dad had woke me up early.

Probably around 2:30 am.

It was Christmas morning and he wanted me to open my presents at sunrise.

I was sitting on his knees, looking out the window.

Waiting to see the yellow sun come up.

I heard a voice coming from behind me and got up.

“Come here Ana”, my mother said. “I want my Christmas hug!”

(I know how cheesy it sounds but my mom and I used to find it so funny to put Christmas before every word when I was young)

I ran in her arms.

“Merry Christmas mommy”, I told her.

I gave her the biggest smile a 2 years old could give and took her hand.

I drag her towards the window.

At that magical moment we saw the sun rise on the white snow.

It was a quiet morning but I could hear the wind blowing.

I saw my mom leaning over my dad.

And then they were kissing.

***

I remember hearing my father whispering to my mother an " I love you" but I don't believe it anymore.

If he really loved her, he would never had left her.

He would never had left us.

And again this is just a memory.

The memory of a disappointing man.