First Love Series: One (Book 1 Completed) Currently Editing

Childhood

{Jay}

Another lousy night and my parents were up till three in the morning arguing again. I had to cover my ears, and when that didn't work, I used my pillows covering my head to drown out the madness. I hate it here. All they do is fight, and I don't know how much longer I can take it. I know as a fifteen year old, I really have no other place where I can go,but something has to be better than my present situation.
I think my dad is ashamed of me, because I'm not beautiful like my mom. She's quite tall, lean with perfect sking and long dark hair down her back. And I believe that is why they argue all of the time. She's beautiful and that attracts many men.

I am... well...the complete opposite of her. Standing at only five feet tall I'm a brown chubby girl. The odd ball of my family. I haven't seen one person in my family that I resemble. It didn't bother me,but it made me feel like I didn't belong.
Being different only intensified my insecurities about my body. I wanted the thin look-- the body boys looked at. But I wasn't blessed like my mother, or the girls at school so learned to live with it. I have always been told that I'm such a beautiful girl,but that's just their way of saying I'm fat without calling me fat. And then I was fed up with hearing you have such a pretty face but... And now it's gotten to the point where I'm self conscious about the way in look in everything I wear.
It was bad enough to know strangers or people who I don't know think that way about me. But I also had to live with my father's opinion about me losing weight and eating less. When I wanted my mother to defend me she didn't,and that led me to believe she didn't care.

I didn't understand them most of the time. They argued most nights and then they'd make up and behave like they were deeply in love. That's why I usually sat alone in my room because they were bound to argue. I went to my own paradise letting my imagination take me far away. I wrote away my issues and that relieved some of the emptiness I felt.
I have aspirations, goals and dreams, but not enough encouragement from my parents to really believe in myself. I want to become an artist in some aspect. Sometimes I wanted to be a different person.

I rolled over in bed and it wasn't long before I heard my dad's truck pull into the drive-way. I was praying tonight that he'd remain quiet and just leave me alone,however, that wasn't the case at all.

"Open the door!" he slurred hi words twisting the door handle on the other side of my bedroom door.

I'm certain he'd been drinking because it was nights like these when he'd have his pitty sessions about my mother and how nuch he loves us.

"Open the door."he pounded his fist on the wood. "Jay Bird. C'mon. I just... You and your mother mean all the world to me."he sobbed between breaths.

Hearing him call me Jay Bird reminds me of how much he loved me when I was younger. Hearing that he remembered my nick name I made me feel closer to him. It remindes me of simpler times when there was no arguing or disagreements.

I just question so much about them and their love for me. Waa it me that made life unhappy for them? Or did they love me now since they seem to hate one another so much.

I Knew they took care of me, fed me, clothed me and sent me to the best private school their salary could pay for. But I had to face the fact that they were not like the other parents on my street. And maybe they resented the fact that I was different.

Sometimes, I feel like i was an accident and they didn't want me, and other times I didn't know what to feel.

I didn't realize my father had left my door, but I could finally exhale because he'd given up wanting to cry in my shoulder.

The last time he stormed into my room he chastised me about my weight. And I was more than the physical. My issuea weren't understood because they didn't listen. I was eating the pain away because they were unhappy, and I knew that I was the blame.

I'd fallen asleep but I was awake due to the arguing coming from my parents parents bedroom. I followed my normal routine during drowing tuning them out. This literally was my parents their favorite pastime. I tried not to listen, but I heard my dad scream out something about a young punk. My mom became juat as loud calling him a crazy man.

The argument was so much different than the others. Usually I would hear my name when they were like this,but this time my father was angrier. My mom mocked at him and he cursed at her. And I screamed at the top of my lungs for them to shut up. I knew they didn't hear me but I guess I needed to vent my feeling too.
The more my mother laughed and called my father crazy, the louder and uglier his words were towards her. 'Shut up!!! Shut up!" I yelled in my pillow. There was an erie silence and my mother's voice sounded panicky, and nervous. I stood there waiting to hear my father say something. But he said nothing. The next few minutes seem to go by in slow motion.

My mother called out to my father in a cry I never heard. And then there were two loud sounds.

POP!

POP!

The next few minutes I heard only silence. I walked to my bedroom door and I pressed my ear to the door waiting to hear them say anything. I called out to them. "Mom...Dad" Still, I heard nothing but my own heart pounding in my chest. Afraid to go out of my bedroom and look for myself I cried. Without actually seeing what happened I heard it all and I cried harder knowing my life would never be the same again.