A Darker Truth

Chapter 1

I.. can't remember when it all started, honestly. Perhaps it started just after I was born, or maybe even before that.

Oh! I should probably tell you my name.. but it's not that important. Call me whatever the fuck you want. But, just for the hell of it, y'all can call me Baby Powder. I know, I know. It's really, really stupid, but a close friend gave me the nickname. I'll get to that story eventually. But for now, we should try and stick to the beginning of it all. Who knows, maybe this will help me and my fucked up thoughts. Anyways, back to the beginning.

I'll start off from when I was first born. My father was late, of course. He was supposedly busy with my brother, who was old enough to do things on his own.

A little back story for my god damn father. A 42 year old man who never loved my mother. He married her for some stupid reason. They got together when they were 16 and were married for 23 years. All of which, he cheated on her. Out of those 23 years, he was only faithful for 1.

Now, the day I was born, he was late. I said that already. But the reason behind it was because he was fucking at least one of his ten bajillion girlfriends. An exaggeration, obviously, but seriously. He couldn't even be bothered to show up to his own kids birth. In fact, three of the girls he was cheating on my mom with showed up before him. Needless to say, I was being passed around by a fuck ton of cheaters.

Whenever my dad finally made it to the hospital, everything was done and over with.

The picture that was taken... The very first time my father held me, my grandmother snapped a picture for my baby book. And yet, he didn't look happy. He never was fucking happy. You could see it on his face: the look of disapproval and disappointment.

It's hard. It really is. I just want to make him happy, but apparently no one can make him happy. But "please take me back I won't do it again!" Always gave him more chances than what he deserved.

Now, let's talk about the first year a bit.

I wasn't told many stories of it, but there's one in particular I'll always enjoy. Mostly because it was my first big fuck you to my father. A bad way to look at it, but it's fine. It still brings a smile to my face, regardless of how fucked up it was.

You know those little holder things that help babies stand and walk around? Yeah! The one that has the wheels and toys babies can play with, and when you imagine them they're always blue for some fucking reason. Well, anyways. It was a few days before my very first birthday. I was left unsupervised. My mom has to attend to guests who were over, and my dad was supposed to be watching me. But what was he doing? Fucking some random chick in the bathroom. But that's okay! Little childish me had it covered. From what I was told, I apparent was by the stove, by myself. I was trying to reach for something but turned the stove on instead. Now, keep in mind that this was a gas stove. And what do gas stoves have?

Flames.

On top of said stove was a pizza box. And, after a certain period of time, I caught the kitchen on fire. The whole kitchen. Not my proudest childhood moment, but it was worth it in my opinion.

Keep this in mind still. This happened a few days before my first birthday. And what do you get on your birthday? Ding ding ding! Presents! Congratulations on not being fucking idiotic!
And this, for my first birthday, mom likes to insist that my present was a kitchen. It's probably part of the reason I like cooking so much, actually. Or I'm just looking into it to much. Whatever.

I'm
Gonna stop here I guess.
But first, let me tell you something.
If a person ever comes up to you and says "hey.. If you could write a story about your life, would you?"
Fucking
Do it
Because it's probably going to be good.
And when I first heard this question, I was like "excuse me. What the McFuck?"
And now here I fucking am.