Awake to my Mr Perfect

Prologue

I walked along the main road of the city park while scrolling through my phone. I held it to my face while relentlessly going through the internet.

There were so many hot topics to view lately. I grinned while enjoying the news.

Suddenly, a family of three walked past me. A father, mother and a little girl, chattering away happily.

Happy Family! The words I missed! The words I wished never faded!

I stopped in my tracks and looked back. The wind blew gently so I had to brush my short orange hair aside for a clearer view. My ocean blue eyes peered into the scene with mixed feelings.

The little girl in their midst looked so happy. She giggled with so much warmth and carefree spirit. It reminded me of those days.

Those days when my life was like every other. They were the days when I and my family were very happy. I missed those days.

I was a carefree little girl just like the girl I was seeing. I smiled and turned to leave. If only those days didn't end. But so what? It was already the past. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

My name is Tasha Dale. I'm an independent second class working lady... well, at least that's what I think I am.

When I was little, my parents and I had a lot of fun, we were almost the perfect trio. I treasured every moment and wishes that things would never change and that I would never grow up, that was how happy I was.

They erected a swing for me in the garden, at the back of our house. There, we would play together. I'd call my dad superman and my mom, wonder woman, because to me, they were my worlds greatest heros. They were perfect.

I was very happy with my family until it all fell apart. The older I got, the more that I saw that my parents weren't heros. They were just like me, imperfect.

It all started the day I got back from school. I was four but unlike other kids, I didn't take the bus because the school was just a few blocks away.

I opened the front door with a cheerful smile ready to great my parents, but what met me was our family's portrait flying towards me. I quickly ducked due to instinct and avoided it but still got hurt by the shattered glass.

I looked up in fright and saw my parents, fighting. My mom was screaming stuffs that I couldn't understand and my dad responded the same way. I felt a sharp pain in my chest as I watched the harmony of my family fall into ruins for what I didn't understand.

"Tasha, go to your room!" Mom instructed

"Why send her away?" Dad said "Why not let her know?"

"Kyle, get a hold of yourself. She's still a child." Mom responded

"Yeah, 'our' child!" I was sure he emphasized on the word 'our' as he stared at mom like he was going to kill her. I couldn't do anything. With my little legs and my bag pack still hanging on my shoulders, I ran up to my room crying.

I shut the door and didn't come out no matter what I heard. There were more things breaking in the kitchen and then the living room. Then, I heard my mom scream at dad.

"I love my daughter but I won't stay with you for one more second. I'm leaving!" She declared but didn't leave. She stayed but hardly showed her face to me. It broke my heart.

Everytime I got home from school, I'd meet them arguing over little and big things. It happened everyday but I couldn't get used to it. For a four year old girl, it was too much to take.

I got to middle school and that was when I realized that dad had started drinking, mom came home once in a while and we were running out of money.

The few times mom came home were always chaotic. I'd wish for those few times to at least be peaceful but my wish never came true.

This made me wonder what went wrong? Why could they never be happy? I started wishing that I had a different family; where everything was fine and felt like mine.

Seeing them fight like that, I swore I'd never be like them but looking back now, I guess I was just a kid back then.

Mom finally packed her stuff and left, but before she left, I asked her with teary eyes.

"Why...why did all this happen?" She looked at me for a moment, her eyes giving off emotions I couldn't understand.

"Falling for the wrong person is painful." She began "You don't get to fall in love everyday and you don't find the perfect one with ease. Let me advise you," she stroked my hair "...loving is hard. It doesn't always work, you just need to try your best not to get hurt." With those words she left.

I couldn't bring myself to stop her or ask her to take me along. Perhaps I still believed she would come back and everything would go back to the way it used to be. Perhaps.

I went to the swing and sat there trying not to cry but I wasn't strong enough. I broke into tears as I thought of my broken family.

Mom was gone, dad became a drunk and I was all alone. My friends were also gone, what could I possibly do?

I was sure to heed mom's advise and because of that, I didn't fall for anyone. I entered highschool and dads drinking worsened. He couldn't even recognize me as his daughter anymore.

Dad often saw me as a punching bag but I wasn't one to take a hot for nothing. Regardless of him being my father, I'd hit him back really hard.

At first, I started by hitting him with the nearest object to knock him out and if there was none, I'd use my fist. I  got used to knocking him out, occasionally.

Such incidents happened a lot and I got acustomed to using my fist. That much experience in fighting became useful later on.

I got into college with the trust fund saved in my name and stayed in campus. I didn't want to go home and face my drunk of a father.

I indulged in a lot of activities just to keep my mind off things and really let go.

I didn't trust anyone or rather, couldn't trust anyone no matter how nice or innocent they looked. That only spiked up my suspicions concerning your motive of approaching me.

I wasn't a pushover at college and I definitely didn't let a matter slide.

Sure I wasn't the most popular or the most beautiful but I stood out with my curly orange hair, sharp ocean blue eyes, little round nose and small plump lips. I was the definition of cute but dangerous.

I went on with my single life, always remembering the words my mom told me. I couldn't stand the thought of getting my heart hurt. Sure I could take a few punches in the face but definitely not my heart.