My Story

The day my world caved in.

Many people probably have lovely childhood memories, images that dance around in their minds creating their lips to curl up on either side. Young people should have nice things to remember, we shouldn't be a generation of hiding and regret. We're taught to obey what our elders tell us to do, regardless of what it is. Fits will be thrown, scrapes will be kissed, and tears will dry. We grow up; it's all part of this ride.

I wasn't allowed to venture extravagantly far when I was a child if I was alone. If I was with my sister it was a different story, Nyki was my scapegoat. Morgan, my brother, kept us all in check. He was more of a father to us than our own was. We respected him. I respect him. I go to Morgan for everything, I always have. Morgan told me never to go in the house before dinnertime if necessary and if I did to stay out of the living area, maybe he didn't tell me this, it was more of an unspoken rule. My main obligations were playing soccer in the yard with Morgan and Nyki, and reading.

Reading is one of the things I'm best at. Grandma tells me every time I see her that my vocabulary is getting better. I hope it is. Every time Nyki and I get into an argument I use my "wow words" to make her even more upset with me. It actually works vey well. However, it never went over very well with Gramps when I made Nyki cry. I've always been good at confrontations, I don't enjoy them, but when I'm angry there is no telling what I'll do. This is an aspect of myself that scares me. Every time we go to Grams and Gramps everything is okay again. My world isn't in pieces and I'm whole.

I probably enjoyed my grandparents' house more than my own, even on the pleasant days at my parents' house. I knew the smell of alcohol before I knew how to form coherent sentences. I'm still not sure how to form coherent sentences. I trip over my own words all the time, mainly when I get nervous. I'm usually nervous. Not to such an extreme extent when I'm with my grandparents. I feel safe around them, more so than I do around my father.

"Colorful words are not always beautiful", my mother told me one rainy afternoon. I was trying to stop crying, I had the outline of a hand spread across my cheek like an out of place birthmark. I asked my mother why our world was spinning out of control. I did not want anything to change; I wanted to stay in our small little town. Mother told me that people change more often than the seasons do, and that I should allow myself to be as detached as I could be from any given situation. I didn't realize how these words would swarm my mind during the later years of my life.

I'm more involved with learning new things than playing dolls, that's probably why most of the girls my age do not like me. I have learned to live with it though, my mother told me I don't need other people's approval to be happy, I just need my own. I decided from that moment forward I wouldn't allow other people to make decisions for me. My mother told me that is what she always wants me to remember. I hope I remember it.

I'm taking my mothers advice now. I allowed myself to become detached from issues that did not include me, along with most of the problems that did involve me. I always look to her when I need things now; she enlightens me to the aspect of new things. She does not leave abruptly when she is angered. She stays. I think she might be the only person who has ever stayed.