Falling is the best part

The Spaniard And The Cigar

Four, I was four years old when she left. Left us for that Spanish bastard. You see I never liked my mother I hated her actually, well however much a four year old can hate anyways, but I never thought she'd walk out on us. My parents were outlaws, my daddy a thief and a murderer and my mother well she was an uptight cow to be honest. My daddy stole her a few diamonds and a posh frock and suddenly she was better than everyone else. Portrayed herself to be some upper-class lady who goes to Gallas and gets her knuckles kissed by rich entitled men with obnoxious mustaches when really we lived on the run, shoveling shit on a tiny farm that my daddy built. The only animals being a prized pig and cow that you guessed it my dad stole. As far as I can remember my mother didn't really like me, she was always cold with me "no child of mine" she would say to me. She always wanted a girly girl instead she got a little girl that wanted to wear trousers and go shooting with her dad. The day before she left she was packing her bags in front of me and my dad, she was drunk absolutely hammered in fact, she started telling us how she was leaving us for a Spanish man called Felipe, how she was going to New York going to live like she deserved in a mansion with maids and being waited on hand and foot. She passed out a while later and the next morning I awoke to a loud knock on the front door, she screamed at me to answer it. It was the coachman of Felipe's carriage he helped her get her bags to the carriage as she was still drunk from the night before. Her final drunken slurs to my dad before she left were "I love you I'm just not in love with you anymore" and my beautifully moving goodbye was a gift, to always remember her by she grabbed my arm and took her cigar out of her mouth and held it onto my skin until I there were silent tears dripping from my chin and with that she was gone. After the door slammed shut my dad picked me up and hugged me tightly. He whispered in my ear while stroking my hair in a comforting manner that he would love me unconditionally. He promised to buy me books so I could read and paper and pens so I could write and guns and knives so I could go hunting with him. Everything was perfect. Untill a month after my 9th birthday. When I realized how crule the world really was.