Hate You, Love You. | Jenlisa

32

I didn't show up at school on Tuesday and Friday. Perfect attendance records be damned because I need to have some me time. I told my mo I was sick, which wasn't a complete lie, only a half truth and as such, I couldn't go to school or drop Ella at Nevermore.

Luckily, she didn't ask too many questions and let me do my thing. My mind tells me she knows I'm lying, but she doesn't want to be too pushy. I'd open up to her... eventually. Sehun's assault and Lisa's mind games have really taken a toll on me and I really need a breather.

Rosé has been checking up on me constantly and is swinging by this afternoon to see how I'm doing. We haven't visited each other in a while because our schedule are hectic but hey, you make time out of no time.

Picking up my phone from my pink covered bed, I scroll through my contacts (out of boredom). Stumbling by a number I swore I deleted long ago, I hit the call button with a sliver of hope.

They say trials and tribulations are supposed to bring families together, but in my case, it ended up tearing us apart.

My mom and dad first met in high school. They didn't date back then but she said they were really good friends. They drifted apart when they went off to university but then rekindled their friendship when my dad came back to town for work.

Long story short, friendship to romance, romance turned to a wedding and a wedding turned to my sister and I being born. From what I recall from my childhood, it was as normal and stable as can be.

Mom worked at Saint John's Hospital while my dad was the manager at one of the biggest grocery stores in town. I remember how my dad used to take me to the park to get ice cream, taught me how to ride a bike, he even signed me up for martial arts classes because he wanted his daughter to know how to protect herself when the occasion demanded it.

I was really close to my dad. He was my hero, the one I'd go to when I had problems with my math homework or when I fell off my bike, he'd be there to treat my wounds and then sing me a lullaby to make me stop crying.

My parents always looked so in love. With each passing day, they looked like they were going to be together forever. They were the reason why I believed that true love really did exist. Now, they're the reason why I believe that the notion of true love is utter bullshit.

Ella was born in December of 2006. My dad was so happy because he had another girl who completed his family. He would dote on her and help mom out in changing diapers, making her bottle, buying her clothes. Anyway he could help out, he would.

When Ella was one, we started noticing that she was always weak. I mean regular one year olds turn into mini terrors because they finally discovered that they could walk, so they literally use their legs and hands to turn the house into a miniature playground, but not Ella. She didn't have the energy.

At first my parents thought it was nothing serious, so they overlooked it but then, they noticed that she had boils on her skin, hard painful ones. They took her to the hospital where my mom worked and the pediatrician told my parents that she would be fine. Apparently, she had an allergic reaction to something so he recommended changing her diet and then gave her medications.

Things were supposed to get better, right? Well, wrong. Life always finds a way to kick you in the ass when you least expect it. My parents' picture perfect marriage crumbled like a pack of cards. I was too you to understand then–I mean, I was only 4 years old and was invested in Barbie dolls and cartoons and not 'grown up stuff'–but I was not stupid.

I could sense that there was a disconnect somewhere. They were constantly fighting, hurling insults and screaming at each other. It almost felt like they resented one another for some reason unknown to me then.

Two years passed, I was six years old and Ella was three. She was still sick at the hospital and I would visit her every day when I got back from school. We would play with her toys, and I would read her stories and teach her things that I learnt in school. I loved my sister, she was literally perfect to me and I wondered why God would afflict her with such a disease.

One day, I got home from school and I saw my mother crying on the couch whilst holding a piece of paper. 7 year old me couldn't understand why she looked so distraught.

She sat down, looked me straight in the eye and told me that my dad abandoned us. I knew that my parents where always fighting but it didn't give him the right to just up and leave like that knowing fully well that he had a daughter who could die in the hospital at any moment.

It's been years now since he has been gone and I've come to terms with the fact that he's gone. I don't hate him, I used to, but I've spent enough time doing that and I've realized that harboring such negative feelings in your heart would only kill you faster and I'm really not interested in dying young.

Ella blames herself for him leaving, but I constantly tell her that he is an adult who has a moral sense of what is right and wrong. He made a decision and decided to stick by it, so it's no one's fault.

We survived the hurdles, my mom, sister and I, and we would continue to wave through the storm together.

"Hey dad, it's me again leaving the 100th voicemail, but who am I kidding? You'd never respond." I wipe the stray tears with the sleeve of my sweater and calm my breathing. "A call once in a while would suffice, but I guess you don't care enough, and I... Ella misses you. She asks about you everytime and I can't seem to find the words to explain things to her. She's 14 now, did you know? Your daughter is a teenager, and in 9th grade and she's one of the sharpest people I know. You know, I have so many questions running through my mind, and I always wonder why you left. Did you hate being a parent so bad? Did mom do something wrong? Was it me? Why did you have to leave? And it's not... I'm just going to hang up now. You probably won't even listen to this anyway."

With a single click of the red button, the line goes dead along with my heart.

Hope is but a grain of sand.