Deixa Acontecer

I was seven years old.

  I was seven. I was seven when I heard my dad's phone ring. I was still seven when he picked it up and his mouth hanged open while he put his free hand on top of his mouth.
 
  I was seven when I saw my father cry for the first time. I was seven the first time I sat on the passenger's seat because my father couldn't think straight. I was seven when I first went to a hospital without being sick. I was seven when I had my first heartbreak.

  I was seven when my mom died.

  With a worried man, a seven year old Madison ran the hospital halls to an emergency room.

  With a tear stained face, little Maddie had to see the doctors freak out because they couldn't sense a heartbeat.

  With her father screaming by her side to the medicine professionals begging them to bring a heartbeat to the love of his life or else his would stop beating too, Madison Nora Ferrari realized she would never see her mother again. Not until she also went to the other side, which was not going to be soon.

  Now the seven year old wasn't a seven year old anymore. In fact she was a fourteen year old starting her first day of high school.

  But don't forget that I was seven years old when my father gave me up for adoption. Do not forget that I was seven years old when my cousin, Amelia, and her colombian husband, Jorge, had to take place as my guardians because my own father couldn't handle looking into his daughter's eyes and seeing his lovely wife, who wasn't alive anymore. And Madison wasn't sure if he was too, but she surely knew that looking exactly like her mother wasn't her fault, but she still blamed herself for it everyday.

  Don't forget that I was seven years old when I had to stop being a kid. Don't forget that I was only seven years old.

  Try and try again but there is no explanation to why did he left, at least not an understandable one. Sure, I knew that I looked like her, talked like her and acted like her but for The Lord's sake I was raised by her!

  And what did he think? That I wasn't hurt? That everytime, after she passed away, he would cook me dinner and I wouldn't remember that once the one feeding me wasn't him, it was her.

  My father was a great father before he forgot he wasn't only my mother's husband. He would take me to the park, drop me at school and be proud of my grades. I did everything possible to make him smile, and I knew that my academic dedication would do the work. It even did after he wasn't around. I tried to prove myself worth it day after day drowning in my studies as I hoped, not only for him to come back, but her.

  I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to come back. Yes, a part of me wanted someone to cry to when my plans went wrong, wanted to cheer with him while watching soccer games even though I didn't understand a thing, wanted him to look at me, into my eyes, and tell me "you look just like your mother", not in a harmful way but a loving one. But a part of me wasn't sure if I could quite complete that thought. A part of me told me that if he appeared at my door in one random day I would explode, ask him unanswerable questions and cry, sob, knowing I could never feel comfort in his arms again. Because they once held her. They held my mom.

  Most of the time I just feel like a seven year old again, with no home, no one to run to, no one to write to when father's day comes, no one to write to when mother's day comes. But there was a big difference between them, Madison could write a hundred letters for Lydia but they would never get to her. On the other hand, she did write a hundred letters for her father but she didn't know where he was, neither his address, nor if he still lived in the same city as her. Another difference is that if the letters arrived, her mom, Lydia, would read each and everyone of them carefully. Her dad would choose not to open it.

  Don't get me wrong, I love Amelia and Daniel, and I write their letters out of my heart too. But they're not my parents, not blood related ones. Even though Amelia is my cousin and her and her husband took me in, ever since the accident, I couldn't handle the thought of calling them "mom" and "dad".

  I couldn't handle seeing anyone call their parents like that. Oh, I was jealous they even had one! Because when I was seven years old they all left. Either by option or by destiny. And the only one who stuck with me after all this time, after mom passed away and dad pretended he did too, was Tony. My little dog, who I once got when I was seven years old.

Nova speaks!
  Heyy, what do we think of the first chapter so far?

  I didn't know what to write for a start so here it is, a little background story before the drama starts.

  I promise that it gets better with time.

I love you, God loves you more, bye bye.
See you next chapter! 💕💕