Chapter two
I always wanted a pet. Something I knew would love me. Something to fill the emptiness inside me. Dad’s fiancée and her daughters had a rabbit called flopsy. I was hardly allowed near it. I remember they bought him a leash to take him on a walk. The poor rabbit; wanting to hop around freely, but being tugged by the leash. It’s like a metaphor. Saying that the owner has all the power. That’s what my life was like. Ruled by dad’s fiancée.
At one point my Grandmother got a brown and white Chihuahua named Phoebe. My Grandmother had rescued her from a homeless man, who didn’t have enough resources to look after Phoebe. Every second weekend that I visited my Grandmother, I spent hours on end playing with Phoebe. She gave me joy, and made me forget about my troubles. Phoebe was so small that she couldn’t pick up a tennis ball. We had to go to the pet store and buy her miniature tennis balls and other special toys made for a dog her size. I had become attached to Phoebe. I loved her. She’s what kept me going until the second weekend that I got to see her.
Phoebe was a sensitive dog, and she couldn’t eat dog food. My Grandmother used to cook her rice, with vegetables and some meat in there. One Sunday night, Dad’s fiancée cooked us dinner that looked just like it. I just had to open my big stupid mouth and say ‘That looks like Phoebe’s food’. That almost got me hit. I should of kept my mouth shut.
After only a couple months with Phoebe, my Grandmother decided she was to much work, and said she had to go. I remember hearing the news. I pretended to go to the toilet, but I just locked myself in the bathroom and cried so no one would see me. At this point, all I could think was how everything that meant anything to me was taken away.
YOU ARE READING
Lost Childhood
RastgeleThis is a fictional story about a depressed teenager telling her story of how she lost her mother and her world fell apart when she was a child.
