KiriDeku: Smile for Me

Chapter 12

There was a point in my childhood where I was happy. Not only me but my family as well. I don't remember much from it, but the proof is from the pictures we took back then. Looking at them now, it felt like staring at alternate versions of ourselves. Was there really such a time like that?

I think the change happened by the time I was three. My dad had a fairly nice job. He got paid enough that my mom didn't have to work. We were well off. Not a single problem existed in our reality.

The day my dad came home, after he lost his job, became my first conscious memory. It etched itself into my brain. I remember hearing the door slam loudly. My mom put me down and asked him what was wrong. He pushed her away and locked himself in his room. For the first time I saw her without a smile. The expression on her face, it was unclear to me. Was it fear? Disdain? Confusion? I never found out. I did come to realize in later years that the cause of all this originated at embezzlement.

In order to sustain our livelihood, my mom took up two jobs. She worked endlessly. The time she didn't work would be focused on taking care of me. It got a bit easier for her when I started preschool. She was able to get rest, if she ever decided to.

As for my dad, it seemed like his life continued to spiral. He was blacklisted by every employer due to his heinous actions. The work he could find, landed him in minimum wage occupations or odd jobs. Eventually he gave up on those too, quitting what he could barely get his hold on. In the end, he turned to drinking, never leaving that road.

With the dynamics shifting in my family, the peaceful life we had so far began to shatter. My dad would drink away his frustration, letting it all out during his drunkenness. My mom would fight back. All the stress she had from work and what felt like single parenting to her, gave her enough anger to handle his tantrums. They kept this up all throughout my time in preschool.

Attending school was my only escape from our dysfunctional family. A place where I could relax, except that I was constantly drained from the drama at home. As long as I didn't have to hear their yelling, it didn't matter if I couldn't think because I was temporarily free.

Despite the hell that was only beginning, someone at school had reached out to me, pulling me from the abyss I had fallen. He was a boy from a different classroom. Being around him made me forget the bad things. For that whole year his hand guided me out of the darkness. When we had to part, I felt like we'd see each other again. Though we never did. I never got the opportunity to thank him for his friendship.

Things between my parents continued to get worse. The poison eventually ensnared my mom, as she picked up on my dad's drinking habit. It was too much for her, for all of us. The shaky foundation that held us up, came toppling down. Before I finished preschool, they called it quits. Mom couldn't afford to pay rent anymore and dad was a useless drunk. We had no where to go, yet my grandma welcomed us to come stay with her. In the end we left my dad in the city.

My grandma lived in the countryside alone. Grandpa had died a few years ago, before I was born. They had a big house. It used to be full with them, my mom, and her two brothers. Now it was a husk of its former self.

Living there had been a great change for me, especially from the toxic environment I was being raised in. I attended school and came home to what really felt like home. Grandma's warmth eased my heart and mom was able to relax without worry. I thought that things finally got better, even after taking so long. Except the damage had ever lasting effects. Mom still drank, not heavily like before but occasionally. My grandma would get at her. She'd just shrugged it off however.

There would be times when she'd leave back to the city, keeping me in my grandma's guardianship. She would try to get a job and make a comeback for us. It'd be successful for a little while. Sometimes she'd tell me to get all my things packed in case it worked out. The thrill would get to her head and she'd get careless. She'd start drinking again, losing control of the situation. Not long after that, she would come home and not speak a word of what happened or why she was suddenly back. This cycle went on for years.