In a perfect world, you would see smiles on all children's faces, balloons in their hands. It would be a sunny day, not a cloud in sight. Today, the reality of seeing every child happy is a lie. Amongst the difficulties of life, lye the dangerous habits and thoughts to be picked up.
I fell into that trap, spiraling downhill into the broken pieces society had left me with. The problem in my life, is I remember everything. I remember the beginning, the middle, and the end. Sometimes, I let the harsh situations control me, starting with my thoughts.
Every story starts somewhere. I remember when I was six years old. My Dad, Mom, and I all lived together. It wasn't always perfect, but we were still a family. I loved my parents very much than. I was young, and innocent. But one morning, my mom started screaming,
"Come on! Get up!"
It was Saturday morning, it was early. I was forced to get dressed. I was than walking to the car. We pulled up a few feet from my Dad's restaurant. My mom wouldn't explain much, all she said was that she was looking for my Dad. I sat there, waiting for him to pop up out of no where. I didn't understand what was happening. Everything was happening so fast. Finally, I glanced over and spotted him with a girl he worked with.
" Mommy! I see him. There he is!"
At first, I felt proud being the one to spot him out. But I soon realized that I regret ever telling her he was there, pointing him out. I exposed him, giving him away, now making it known.
My mom ran out of the car and told me not to move. I listened but I still watched from inside the car. My Mom went running up towards my Dad. She had a mean look on her face while my Dad looked completely shocked to have seen her. The girl my Dad was with, Katie, stood silently watching, just like me. She didn't move, she was silent. My Mom began screaming and all I was able to see was my Mom in my Dad's face, both yelling at the top of their lungs. While Katie stood against the car, quiet, with tears rolling down her face. Katie looked upset and had a look of remorse in her eyes. Soon, my eyes shifted onto my Mom and I saw her raise her hand as she slapped my Dad. My Dad didn't try to hit her back, but he yelled louder. I couldn't understand what was going on. I wanted to get out of the car, to be able to make it stop, I wanted to understand.
I saw my Mom, running vigorously towards the car. Than she began yelling, yet again once she closed the car door.
"I can't believe your Father. I can't believe I caught him cheating on me!"
I wanted to cry, I loved my family. I wanted to understand, most of all. I wanted to make sense of it all, everything seemed to be useless. I couldn't stop the tears coming out of my Mom's eyes. I sat in the backseat, looking out the window, looking for a place to hide.
Months passed, days went by. My Dad would pick me up at my Great-Grandma's or my Nana's. He never picked me up, straight from my house. I would see my Dad only on specific days. He moved out of our apartment, he left. All I was left with, were hour visits, like prisoners receive in jail cells. That's was the routine, until first grade ended. Life wasn't all fun and games anymore, there wasn't a smile in sight. There were no sunny days or balloons. It was a broken piece, going to be placed along the depressed thoughts of a soon to be broken girl.
I wish I could say everything was going to be okay from there on out. As a little girl you dream of a perfect world, but you soon begin to realize a perfect world doesn't exist.
After that year, I found out we would be moving to Florida after second grade. I was happy, but sad knowing I'd be leaving all my friends and family behind. My mom and I would be moving in with my Dad. Both of my parents saw this as an amazing opportunity. I wasn't so sure, but with no choice, I would be there. I had hope that things might be how it use to before, but unfortunately it was the unknown path of our futures lying in the hands of God.
