Irish Luck

Chapter 1

Irish Luck

By Briar Spence

Chapter 1 

I guess this was finally happening. I thought that this would last forever, but I guess love doesn't last. People get bored, people change, people move on... people forget.

My parents were getting a divorce.

I guess I understood why, my parents were too different. They say opposites attract, but I guess in their case, opposites repel. They've been married for eleven years; eleven years of joy, happiness, love. So much love that they had two children, myself, and my younger sister, Aimee.

I've never formally introduced myself, I'm Kennedy; Kennedy Elizabeth Richards.

My parents didn't have a cute back-story to begin with. My father and mother met at a mutual friends' birthday party and hit it off from there. They started going steady, and since the colleges they went to were close to each other, they worked out. My dad didn't even propose to my mom romantically. They went out to a restaurant that was now "their restaurant" when he proposed.

"You should start looking for a wedding dress," my father had said, with a mouth full of pasta.

"And why is that?" my mother responded with pleasure oozing from her smile.

"Because, Susan, I'm going to marry you," he responded, trying to work the pasta down his throat.

And my mothers response to that? "Ok." That was how he proposed. That's how they decided they were getting married. That's how they decided that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

Or so they thought.

I guess I'm not really being phased by this whole divorce situation. The worst part was over, the fighting. At the beginning their fights would be mother getting mad and whisper-yelling at him in the kitchen. Over the course of the next few months, it didn't matter what was going on, mother would make him stop everything and just shout loudly.

When she started shouting, I would have to grab Aimee since she was so young, grab some of her loud toys and take her down to the basement. I would play with her and make noise so that she couldn't hear the shouting. When I thought they were done, it would be late, so I would tuck her in her bed, sometimes sleeping with her to make sure another fight didn't randomly break out.

She was a smart girl, by about the fifth time they fought and I took her down to the basement she understood what I was doing.

"What do mommy and daddy always fight about?", she asked one day, still looking down at her talking doll.

"What?," I asked, shocked she knew what was happening.

"Kennedy, I'm almost seven years old, I'm not stupid.", she said, matter-of-factly. I was only four years older than her. The fighting matured her quickly, as it did to me.

"Sometimes mommy and daddy don't agree on things, important things, and well, this is the only way they can express what they're feeling." I tried to explain as simply as possible.

"Oh..." she said, trailing off into her dolls eyes. "I don't want to play anymore, can I go to sleep now?"

I look back on that night and I feel so bad that she couldn't have a happy childhood. She couldn't have what all the other second graders have. Neither could I.

So here we are now, I'm now sixteen, Aimee is twelve and our parents are getting a divorce.

------

hey guys, this is a story I've been making for a while now and my friend said I should publish it.

**All Rights are Reserved**

but yeah I hope you all like it!

thank you all!