A Life Story

Part Three

After Drake's move, Hank got very sick. He had been airlifted via helicopter to a nearby hospital. As it turns out, Hank's heart was faulty from years of alcoholism, and it was attempting to give up on him. I was sent to my Grandmother's house during the time of Hank's emergency surgery, and i never got to visit him at the hospital. All I know is that when he returned, and i came back home, Hank's heart had turned cold.

I first noticed the change in the way he treated Zoe. When she would come ingot he living room, he would demand that she leave him alone instantly, and complain to my Mom that she was such a brat. I began to notice the sudden influx of beer in the fridge.

Soon, he came for me. His red hands pulling at the end of my floral tank top, insisting that I put something else on. I don't want to look like a whore. The living room turned into a lion's den, and the lion never slept. When I walked out to grab food, I would be greeted with the idea that my hair looks weird like that or shorts don't look good on you. These terrible days filled with alcohol bred insults led to insomnia filled nights. Every dinner was snuck into my room by my mom, the waitress, after her work day, which consisted of three jobs to make up for Hank's new unemployed lifestyle.

I was a terrified little girl. I lost a spark. Everything I did began to be by routine. My clothes, my hair, and my timing were the same thing day to day, and it could never change, or something bad would happen. I could never change, or something bad would happen.

This was my first taste of pure emptiness. Those long nights spent laying in my bed staring up at the ceiling, counting down the hours until he would pass out were the nights I remember the most about the blue house. Any good, colorful memories that took place there were covered up by a dark mask that prevented me from feeling the feelings of typical kids my age. To this day, every time I feel shy, scared, or uncomfortable in my own skin, my mind reflects on these times, making me remember the reason why. I often wonder why my Mom chose to stay with such a terrible man. How could she put him above her own daughters? I think I've just about figured it out. Stay tuned.