DYSFUNCTIONAL LOVE

Chapter 1

"Heaven!  Heaven wake up! You're going to miss the bus and I don't have time to take you to school now!"

The sound of my mother's yelling took the place of my alarm for the fifth day in a row. 
I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the digital clock that still had not turned on.
Great. Still no electric.

"I'm up mom!"

I lay in bed looking at the ceiling, wishing for just five more minutes of sleep.  Balancing school and extra hours at work is really taking its toll on me.  But I promised my mother I would help her make ends meet, no matter how much she objected.

I used what little strength I had to hop out of bed.

"Heaven I'm about to go. I'm leaving money on the counter for the rent. Make sure Mr. Charles gets this when you get home. He's been on me all week about it.
I have to work late again.  There's some left overs in the fridge." 

"Okay mom"

"And please, try not to wake your father. You know how he is about his sleep"

My mom closed the door shut and I hooked the chain behind her.
Yeah, I know how he is about his sleep.  Problem is, other than drinking, he doesn't seem to worry about anything else. 
My mother works two jobs to take care of us and it still is not enough. 
Ever since Greg came back from the army he claims he's been looking for a job.
There's no point in calling him Dad.  He's never acted like one since I was born.
It's been 18 months since he's been home.  He could've stayed where he was as far as I'm concerned.

Greg and my Mother have been together since they were 14 years old.
According to her, it was love at first sight.
Their honey moon phase came and went by the time I came along.  So I never got to witness the love that she describes they had.

My mom got pregnant at a young age. So Greg went to the army. Said he didn't know any other way to support his family. I think he just didn't want to deal with the responsibility.
But hey, what do I know.

Their kisses and love notes and late night conversations, turned into slaps, punches, and other women by the time he made it home from Iraq.  My mom likes to give him the benefit of the doubt. But I know better.
I want so much better for my mother. Unfortunately there's not much I can do about her not wanting better for herself.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, put on my school uniform and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.  No point in looking to see if we have anything for breakfast...I know we don't.

I grabbed my backpack and walked through the living room and saw Greg passed out on the couch.  The empty bottle of Jack Daniels and the white powder residue on his nose let me know he'll be there all day.

Figures.

I grabbed my house keys and walked out the door.
Like clock work Jessie walked out of her apartment at the same time. 
Jessie lives across the hall with her sister Megan.  She's pretty much the only friend I have.

Jessie grinned from ear to ear, and held out a neatly wrapped square package.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"I told you not to get me anything"

"Just shut up and open it"

I unwrapped the box and found a silver necklace inside with a locket.  Inside was a picture of Jessie and I back in the 5th grade.
I couldn't help but smile.

"It's actually really great. Thank you"

Jessie gave a cocky smirk and held her head up high.
"I knew you'd love it.  So, what are we doing tonight?"

"I don't know what you're doing, but I'm working.

Jessie rolled her eyes.
"You're seriously going to work tonight?  Come on! It's your birthday."

"It's just another day as far as I'm concerned"

We walked out of our building together and headed to the bus stop.

Today marks 18 years of being on this earth. I've been trying to figure out what's so special about it.  For some people, turning 18 is the cream of the crop. Something so special you'll never forget it.  My life has yet to show me anything worth remembering.

"GET DOWN!!!"
The sound of gunshots and screaming interrupted my train of thought.   Shootings are common in my neighborhood, but I've never been up close and personal with one before. 

Hollywood has taken the real act of a gun shooting and turned it into something that it's not.  Nothing moved in slow motion.  No warning sign came. No sinister music played in the background. Nothing like the movies at all.

I don't remember dropping to the ground but somehow I got there.

The sound of people screaming, kids crying, and police sirens filled the air.
The shooter went just as fast as they came.

As the commotion died down I slowly stood up. Being very hesitant with my movements.
I saw the blood before I felt the pain in my chest.
I instantly felt light headed, and weak. 
My stomach dropped down to my feet.
Tears built up in my eyes but I couldn't make a sound.

The heartbreak that I felt as I looked at Jessie's dead body will forever be etched in my brain.