Clueless

C1

                Problems. Everyone has them, obviously. Whether we care to admit it or not, they're there, and depending on what it is, the result will be different. They may be permanently cleared, or only temporary, but as long as they're gone for the moment, no one really cares right? It wavers for me. But I guess it depends on the context of the situation as well, huh?

I wouldn't particularly consider these things "problems", they're more of just inconveniences to say the least. Others around the world have more important issues going on that are actually worth talking about, rather than sitting here and telling you about my misfortune. Like the wars that's happening in third world countries, human trafficking, and violence crossing paths of the innocent. Those are more worth your time than reading this, but here you are, still reading.

I guess if you're going to pursue reading this, I suppose a decent self-introduction would be in favor? Hi, my name is Seba, no, it's not short for Sebastian, this isn't the little mermaid. It's pronounced "s-eh-buh" by the way. You wouldn't believe how many people pronounce it as "see-buh". It drives me close to the brink of insanity, but I can't blame them for it. Here I am, complaining about mispronunciations of my name when legitimate torture is going on somewhere in the world.

I'm fortunate. Not money wise, but wouldn't that be fantastic? I mean I'm fortunate in a more grateful aspect, I'm very lucky to have things that many do not have. Like a family, I have a few siblings, I don't talk to them all, but they're out there somewhere living their life. I'm sure they're doing crazy things, living life to the fullest, jumping out of planes, swimming with sharks. They could have the best job in the world, like a C.I.A agent, or a world class chef who makes the most mouthwatering dishes in the world. Or they could be working a 9 to 5 job that they hate and so desperately want to quit, but can't because they're on the edge of getting kicked out of their black-mold filled apartment. I wouldn't know, they don't associate with my mom's side of the family anymore. Why? Not a clue.

I have both of my parents and plus one. If it wasn't apparent enough, my mom and dad are divorced. I've gotten pity for it by other kids who are lucky enough to have their parents stay together, I guess they assume it's a difficult process. If they guessed that, they'd be correct, it is a difficult process.

When I was roughly 5 years old, just now beginning to remember things that were going on, I recalled shouting and booming sounds echoing throughout our tiny house. Of course I don't remember what they were saying most of the time, but there was a moment that ruined a whole movie series for me.

My mom had gone out to get groceries while my dad and I were in the living room watching Star Wars, my brother was in his room lying in his crib asleep. In my mind, everything is fine, mom and dad love each other, there isn't any bad in the world. This was all I knew at such a young age.

The front door handle jiggled and appeared locked, I didn't know that it was locked deliberately. My dad didn't pay it any mind and kept his focus on the movie, so, as did I. There was a knock at the door, my dad sat still hoping that maybe I didn't hear it, but I did. The knocking progressively got louder, but he still wouldn't acknowledge it, even when it turned into pounding.

The volume on the movie increased when there was yelling on the opposite side of the door. I recognized it as my mother's voice, she yelled in distress, "Open this goddamn door before I break it down!" My dad wasn't able to keep quiet after hearing her threat. Although, I didn't see what the problem with opening the door was, I was afraid to go unlock it.

"I will call the police!" The aggravated man next to me shouted back. After that, the next thing I recall is him launching himself off the couch and stomp into the kitchen. There were glasses being broken, shards everywhere, bouncing off of the hard surface of our tile floors. I had gotten up and poked my head around from the hallway corner to shield myself from anything that might have flown my direction.

What was going on? Weren't they happy? Why won't daddy just let mommy inside? All I knew were their smiles and laughs when they were around, I never imagined they hated each other's guts from the act that they put on around us.

When I would walk out in the living room at night, my father was sleeping on the couch. Whenever I confronted him of the situation, he would lie to me and say, "I was just too tired to make it to the bedroom, so I fell asleep here." Of course throughout the 10+ years, I've concluded it to be lies. Mommy and daddy were falling apart from each other. But they didn't want to show that, they wanted my year old brother and me to only know of happy marriages. Never the ones that were pure and utter disasters.