Her life was far from perfect.
With an absent father, an alcoholic mother, and two younger siblings to take care of, Aurora never believed in an exemplary life for herself and therefore for others.
Everyone looked at her from their rose-colored gl...
TW: THIS STORY DOES CONTAIN MENTIONS OF MENTAL/ PHYSICAL STRUGGLES LIKE SELF-HARM AND DEPRESSION ALONG WITH ADDICTIONS LIKE ALCOHOL USE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𖥔. ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁୨୧. ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .𖥔
What an ironic play on words naming me after a fairytale character. I was the farthest thing from that standard. So very different from a quintessential life.
And I hated it.
I hate my name, my parents, my role, being here, and being there.
All I want is to be over with this and be gone. I want to leave and not in the way of packing things in a car and driving off. Unlike the innocent blueprint of my name, I dreamed of an ending- of dying and being done.
I was the eldest of my siblings. My youngest sister was named Mia; she was three. Jack was ten and more aware of the shitty life we were dealt which made it harder to fake it with them; the mask I wore around to make their life easier than mine.
It didn't matter though, it was all garbage. Our lives were shit from the moment my dad decided he didn't want our mom and thought maybe he could forget about this family and go off and start a different one. Just like that. Like a fucking game. He turned his back on something incomplete once he got bored and started from scratch.
I wish that was all there was to it, but unfortunately, my mom's relationship with the bottle in front of her was more vital when our dad left. Sometimes I question if she's so drunk she believes the bottle is her kid and not the three-year-old clinging to her sweatpants crying because she's starving.
My mom had guys in and out of the house, sometimes they would get serious and the environment in the house would change. You would think it was a good change, but it wasn't.
Three years ago, some guy named Rick was getting somewhat serious with Mom and he moved in. It wasn't for long though, not when he realized mom was pregnant. He wasn't that serious I guess. He left, but not before he got completely high off some drug and waltzed into my room and tried making a pass on me thinking I was my mother.
I was fourteen.
All I remember is his hands wrapping around my legs and trying to drag me off my bed. I think I kicked him, maybe even screamed so hard he snapped out of it. Rick got scared after my tantrum, packed his few things, and left. Mia never got to meet her dad.
Mom was ever really not off her rocker, leaving me to become the provider of the home. Did you forget to pack your lunch for school? Tell Aurora. Do you need someone to drop off Mia at daycare so you can spend all day filling your bladder with assortments of alcohol? Tell Aurora. Need someone to take care of all the house bills and paperwork? Tell Aurora. Do you want your guardian?...
