When the Red Ribbons Meet

A Trip to The Past pt.3

I listened to my mother's sobs as my grandparents yelled at her, hiding behind the door that was cracked open ever so slightly. My body had started to tremble when my grandfather slapped her across the face.

I don't remember what started the fight– or why we never visited them again. I assumed it was because my grandfather wasn't too fond of my father or if my mother just decided she was done with the mental abuse and didn't want that for me as well.

So tell me, how did the annoyance in my life find my entire mom's side of my family? 45 adults and all their children. Making it around 97 people surrounding me, with insincere smiles, fake looks of worry and sorrow and forced greetings.

December 20th, 2006. I stared at my "family" with a hard glare, looking at Kris and Ben with a deeper glare. Their faces were sheepish, not knowing what they could've done to get my angry expression. Ben tried to speak up, but my glare cut him out before he got to even speak.

"What did you do?" I sneered as I grabbed both their wrists and dragged them out of the restaurant, ignoring the protests of my "family".

Once we were outside, I spun around to face them both.
"What the hell did you do?" I growled as I released their wrists.

Ben rubbed his wrist, trying to ease the soreness and stinging sensations.

"Hey, calm down, pal," he muttered. "We thought seeing your family would be nice for-"

I interrupted him.

"Nice? You call this nice?!" I snapped, making Kris and Ben flinch slightly. "Bringing my distant family to the one day I ask for peace HERE?! This is your idea of NICE?!" I shouted in frustration.

Kris had tried to interfere but before she could, I stormed away. Shoving my hands into my pockets as I walked home, too frustrated to notice the long walk.