Chapter one
"New Year's Eve"
"Forget it, mom. I'm not putting these heels on. If you want me to enjoy this night, this will only make me miserable. They look undoubtedly uncomfortable," I tell my mother as I hold the pair in my hand and stare at them in denial while she curled her hair in my bathroom.
I look up and down my closet, trying to figure out which shoes would look good with the black dress I am wearing, preferably something that doesn't add any height to my stature. My eyes focus on my old but favorable black pair of Converse.
"Don't even think about it, Marley," I hear my mother scold me as if she read my mind. "this is a formal party. Your father's boss will be there, and we need to look presentable."
"Mom, please. Can't I just stay at Beth's? I don't feel like sucking up to those people," I already knew her answer, but it was worth to try.
"Honey, I know you don't enjoy these events. Hell, I don't, either. But could you please try? For your father," I sigh. I wasn't doing this for him. I wouldn't do anything for that man. I'm doing this for my mother because I know my father has an unbelievable power over her.
After finally putting on a not-so-tall-but-still-uncomfortable pair of heels and finishing my make-up, I move on to my hair, which I decided I would straighten. Quicker and easier.
"Mom, I'm leaving," I hear Robbie's voice, my 20-year-old brother. I quickly sprint to the living room where I find him next to a suitcase.
"You better not be leaving me, Robert," My mood goes down to the bottom because I know he is going to leave. He has always been my backup in this type of events. He's the one I could always count on to make the night worth something but lately, he's been trying to avoid any situation involving my father.
"I'm sorry, Marley. If I could take you with me, you know I would."
I sigh. I understand him. If I could leave, I would, too. I don't like my father, either. I only go to these events for my mom, but I know Robbie's relationship with my father is different from mine. It's much worse.
"Take care Robbie, don't do anything stupid and make sure you call me at midnight," I tell him while I give him a hug.
"Goodbye Robert, have a safe trip," says my father, coming downstairs while fixing his tie. My mother walks in his direction to help him.
-
I've never been a fan of these fancy parties my parents' get invited to. Why? Other than I've been to way too many and I'm utterly sick of them, I'm also sick of the type of people that you usually find going to them. Stuck-up adults with their stuck-up children. The amount of functioning brains in this place are 2 and a half: my mom's, mine of course and half of my father's. You can kind of get my point now.
But the thing that I hate the most about these parties is having to pretend to be something that we're not. You look at my mother and you think she's the perfect housewife, with a loving husband and perfect children (that's kind of true), when in reality she stays up all night waiting for her husband to come home, has practically raised her two children by herself and cries herself to sleep almost every night.
Now, my father looks like the perfect husband. Loving, caring, loyal. All the things he's not. Especially the third one. He's just a disgusting human being who cheats on his wife and still has the nerve to lie to her face. He's a man who finds it very hard to commit, to keep promises. He calls himself a father, but he's anything but that.
