Trying to find yourself can be one of the biggest challenges you will ever experience. It all starts from the day you are born and ends the day you go six feet under. It determines what you are going to do with your life, how you effect the world later on down the road. Whether you change one person's life or a million people's lives, your going to need to know who exactly you are first. Options come and go with judgment, but what people don't understand is that you just might find beauty in the ugliest of things. Take scars for example. Scars tell a story of someone's past. Whether the story is positive or negative, scars show that the person has been through quite a lot and if we are lucky enough to still have the person with us, we might as well let it be known that we are happy that they made it through whatever gave them that scar. Otherwise, they might think that they are nothing but a lost cause and that scar of their's is just another ugly flaw.
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Brandy's POV:
The ashes from my mother's cigarette were cascaded upon the white windowpane. I watched as the charcoal colored embers fluttered down with every flick of the godawful cancer stick. Her blue eyes were surrounded by dark runny makeup and bags that made her look almost dead. Her hand was still wrapped around the neck of the brown whisky bottle, just like it has been for the past few hours. She looked over at me with her bloodshot eyes and smiled drunkenly. "Baby girl," her voice was hoarse and raspy," don't you ever believe a man when he says the three special words, you know why?"
Before I had time to answer, she said," because he never meant them anyway." Her southern tongue was thick and sloppy along with her words. "Mama, that's not true. Daddy loved y...." I was then cut off by a drunken outburst coming from my mother. "HE NEVER LOVED ME!!!" She threw the bottle of whisky at me and i ducked, just barley missing the hit. "He never loved me" she pointed at herself," He never loved you" she pointed at me," the only thing that man loved was sex and alcohol."
As horrifying as it was to hear those words come out from my mother's mouth, I knew that it was the whisky talking. "No mama, you're wrong" I tried to compel her, but that didn't work due to how intoxicated she was. "I AM NOT WRONG YOU SON OF A BITCH! God damn you Brandy, why can't you ever just keep your nose out of people's business?!?" She yelled after slamming her fist down hard on the counter. That was the final straw.
"You know what," I said quietly. I pointed at the stair case," there are little babies sleeping up there, and I will be damned if I let you stomp around this house because of something that happened months ago. I am sick and tired of you making everything seem like it was directed against you. You know exactly why daddy left and I am so beyond sick of listening to you make it sound like he left you high and dry with nothing. You know damn well that he left because of all of us, not just you. Me, Jesse, the twins, Caroline. He needed something better than US, not YOU. He loved you, but us kids were too much. And I'm sorry that I'm not a good enough daughter to satisfy your needs, but at least I try."
And with that, I walked up stairs to my bedroom in the loft. My small worn out hands pulled out all of my dresser drawers. A burning sensation began to developed deep in the bottom of my throat, reminding myself that I was holding back tears. The same tears I have been holding back since the day my father left. For months I've had to slap on a smile a pretend like everything was okay. All of those late nights I spent blaming myself for everything that went wrong, I wanted to cry. It's not like it would matter, I didn't share a room with anyone so I could cry whenever. The thing that held me back was how I knew I would feel weak afterwards, and feeling weak was probably the worst thing for me.
Therefore, I sucked it the fuck up and put on a brave face. No one actually suspected the torture and punishment I would subdue myself to when no one was looking. If I made mother even the slightest bit upset, I would curse myself for hours. If Jesse got mad at me for something I would take things away from myself. And if the demons inside my head said that it was my fault that my father left, you don't even want to know the kinds of physical abuse I would torture myself with. Even I scared myself sometimes... But all of that was going to end that night. My plan was to pack up my things and leave, but I had not money and no car to go anywhere. I could have taken my mother's car, but my luck something would happen to my siblings and there wouldn't be anyway to get them help. My siblings were the only thing I had left to cherish and love. I couldn't love my father because he never loved me. I certainly couldn't ever love my mother; all she did was stab me in the back and drink alcohol. Maybe that's why they named me Brandy....
But on a different note, I put only the most important belongings into a small book bag. If I could have fit my siblings in there I would have, but we can't all be Marry Poppins. I slung the small bag over my shoulder and slipped on a pair of Kreepers along with my leather jacket. As quietly as I could, I descended down the old rickety stair case. My mother wasn't anywhere insight and when I peered out the window her car was gone. As much as I hated to leave my siblings here alone, it was the only way to free myself. I took in and released a deep breath and my eyes scanned around the room one more time. "Good riddance" I whispered angrily as I opened the door and stepped into the dark September night.
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Author's Note:
Dear readers,
I am very pleased to announce the "birth" of my latest fan-fiction. I know I have posted a few other ones that were beyond shitty and went no where, but this one I am going to try and make a serious commitment with. For the most part, I will try to update chapters every day, but if I have writers block I will inform all of you and we can just have a suggestion day because I absolutely LOVE when my readers suggest things for me to do. It is sooooooooo helpful and I like to have my readers involved as much as possible. This story will be pretty emotional and for the most part I do have a lot of things planned out for it, but just be on guard for a lot of plot twists and betrayals. I really admire the Grim brothers and their classic stories so I might throw a bit of fairy tale bull s**t in here. So I hope you enjoy my story and thanks for reading!
Yours truly,
BriXX
