Achromatopsia

-chapter 1-

hey everyone! im back again! here with chapter 1! i hope you all like it :)

song for this chapter: lost and insecure by the fray

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Growing up I had two role models in my life. Kurt Cobain and my dead mother Faith. When I was first placed in the system I lived in my crappy ipod that my mom had given me for my 11th birthday. She had downloaded a whole lot of Nirvana and a few old Michael Jackson songs, but they never made an impression on me. Only Nirvana did. . I used to think that if I played the song I Hate Myself and I Want to Die enough times ill understand what the hell the song meant but I never did. Then again I was 12 and angry at the world for killing parents so I didn't understand a lot of things. So instead I grew out my hair to match Kurt Cobain's and I prayed to him like he was a god. I don't why I looked up to the man so much, I didn't even know much about him. I just loved his voice and the music that he made. What I did know for sure though is that his death a damn right murder and Courtney Love should be in jail. Just like the drunken driver that missed the overpass and killed my parents. But all he got was 25 to life and all Courtney Love got was over a million dollars and both Kurt and my parents are dead. What a deal huh?

My mom used to laugh when she saw me banging my head to Nirvana and playing my invisible guitar, she said I was the next Cobain with a better ending. I guess she knew that I was falling into a phase of grunge punk rock music and baggy clothes and long hair before I even knew it. My dad used to beg me to cut my hair and become the ideal sports star child he had always wanted instead of listening to music all my life and write songs. I never would listen to him though. I'd let it go through one ear and out the other. So when they died the pain was too much to bear. They never lived to see the child they had always wanted. I felt like a failure. So I gave up the baggy clothes and cut my hair. I took up football like my dad had done when he was my age and made sure I knew everything about it. I made sure I was the best out of all the other kids in the foster care house I stayed in and I made sure that people noticed it too. But I never gave up Nirvana. I never gave up their music because in a way I still felt connected to my mom. I still heard her voice singing their songs on drive homes from school and to the grocery store but it was the best on road trips that we took for the hell of it. My mom was a true free spirt and I loved it. I aspired to be like her in every way possible. Picking up my guitar and journal and driving were ever I wanted to just like she did. My dad didn't mind, it was usual for her. She drove everywhere all the time. She'd sing off tune in her Italian accent to Nirvana, Michael Jackson, Greenday, and Pearl Jam all the time. She'd wear her hair messy and down without an ounce of makeup. She was gorgeous to say it in the slightest. "Wanting to be someone else is a waste of who you are mio amore," she say to me quoting Kurt Cobain. She always told me random quotes like this at the most random times and I always wondered how she remembered them all. but when she died I found a journal that she kept under her pillow and it had was filled with quotes and lyrics. It was one of the few things I kept after their death. It was like a book that was new to me everytime I read it.it never grew old and it smelled like her perfume. The pages were stained of coffee on every page and filled with her messy cursive handwriting and old Polaroid's of people I knew and people I didn't know. The pictures were mostly blurry but she was in all of them and she made each and every one a masterpiece with her bright smile and flowy blonde hair.

On one of the pages in the journal she writes why she fell in love with my dad and it will always be the most interesting thing in the book to me. My dad was always the opposite of my mom and I often wondered how they were able to stay together for 20 years. They never fought, never yelled, but looking back it she was the free spirit in the relationship and he was the adult in it. she writes how she loved his always straightened khakis and always proper hair. It was all so proper but what she loved the most was the fact that she was the only person that actually knew him. She knew what kind of person he was when he was drunk, sad, high, and happy. She loved how he was proper in the daytime but reckless just like her when he wanted to be. she loved my dad so effortlessly and helplessly and I envy it. my mom was more beautiful than any goddess ever known and its impossible to describe who she was in words. But the world was robbed of two beautiful souls and I was robbed of my happiness.