The Story of my Life . (based on a true story)

Chapter 16- My Grandmother Hated Me.

Flashback:

 "This, is when my life came to a disastrous point and I might have ended it right there…"

Don’t worry, I did not end my life right there because that would have been the worst decision I could have ever made.

Honestly, I find that ending your life is such a wasteful thought.

What happens after that?

My parents would have felt guilty.

My brother and my sister would cry.

My relatives would feel upset.

My friends, maybe shed a tear?

But after all that, life will go on. The life that you sacrificed will be of no use. No one will care anymore. They will feel guilty, okay. But how long will that last? 10 days? 3 months? 2 years? Well I can assure you, it won’t last very long.

Trust me.

So if anyone of you reading this have thought about killing yourself, remove that thought at this instant. It is wasteful.

~

After moving in to my grandmother’s house, I felt that I was deprived of so many things that I took granted for. Especially my family. My grandmother seemed nice and friendly and I always thought her to be that way because my mother used to constantly remind me of how well she took care of me and my siblings when we were younger. However, I never actually visited her that often because my mum rarely did. It was only during festive celebrations that I used to see her and talk to her. It was more of a genuine respect than a close relationship that we both shared.  My aunt  used to live there for seven years and my mother was very close to her. We used to go out every Saturday and she never failed to blabber about how mean and cruel my grandmother was. My mother ignored it because she knew grandmother well; nice and friendly. I ignored it too because that’s what my mother told me to, because my grandmother was nice and friendly.

I never knew how wrong that thought can turn out to be. After a few weeks, the soft mumbling came in. Then it expanded into finding fault with my mother. Then it finally hit me that my aunt was absolutely right. Everything that she said came into reality and it was happening right in front of my face.

I witnessed how easily my mother was picked on by my grandmother. My mother respected her a lot, but the concern that she shared gave her a negative feedback. It was almost like getting a toothbrush for Christmas when you asked for a cool fancy leather jacket. Much disappointment, huh? (Or maybe because my teeth had mustard stains.)

It was heartbreaking to see my mother often worrying about various things. She might seem alright when you talk to her but her eyes often let the secret out. She was crying; of all the things that happened to her, not one of them made her happy. Back at my golden throne (my old house) when she felt upset or felt  like the housework was overpowering her small built body, she would often grumble about how she would be happier if she stayed at her mother’s house for a few days. Technically, she was right. Technically because we overuse the word so much that we use it for sentences that are not even required for it to be used.

“Julie, come and eat your dinner.” My grandmother yelled when I was just 2 feet away from her.

“I’m not hungry” I said smiling.

“Come, come eat. Everyone is eating. You should eat more. Children should eat more. You see, see how thin I am? When I was young I did not eat properly. I always did work. I am not lazy. I can’t just sit still for even thirty minutes. I need to work. Hey Julie! Are you listening or what? You must be more alert. When someone asks you a question you have to answer without thinking. Must answer quickly. Then how you going to survive in the real world huh? Don’t be like your mother see how quiet she is? You must be confident. At this rate how are you going to get married and run a family? Hey Natasha, what child are you upbringing?”

So that was a breakdown of how my daily conversation was with my grandmother.

The environment that I was in was filled so many different emotions and I was so caught up with all of them. I felt lost and unwanted and I thought that nobody liked me in that house: especially my grandmother. It went from picking on me with the slightest things you could have ever imagined. It was just a ridiculous bond that personally, no grandchild should ever share with their grandmother.

Going to school was another dreadful nightmare. I had to learn how to take the correct buses to my school or else I’d be left stranded in a forest where nobody would find me because

1.      Nobody can see me there due to my extremely short body length that is hereditary.

2.      I was irrelevant.

 Mainly because I had to explain to my friends on why I moved to an unusual place and why I only stayed with my mother. Oh god, I never want to do that again.

I basically lied to them saying  that I stayed there because I wanted to spend time with my grandmother. I would never trust those idiots with my secrets

I couldn’t concentrate much in school. I was constantly thinking about my family, how long will I have to tolerate the craziness of the people who lived in that house, the little freedom that had been snatched away from me. I felt so pressurized and so unhappy that I could have fallen into depression. And I’m not just saying it blatantly, I really could have. My mind was killing me and my body was too tired. I was tired from all the bull that has been happening in my life. I would ask myself questions like this:

Why am I the only one?

Why me, of all people?

Does God hate me that much?

Did I do something wrong?

Is it worth being alive?

Will things ever get alright?

At that moment, things never got alright. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t at least one person that made me happy

My aunt.

She was living in the same house as me. Her name was Lucy,

She wasn’t normal. Differentiating normal and abnormal was tough because my aunt was both. She was human (not a vampire or a werewolf even though that would have been cool) but at a very young age she was diagnosed with mental disability and she could not speak very well. She was deaf and a midget.

Even with all these ‘abnormal’ qualities, I deemed her like a normal human being, on festive occasions, not many people will interact with her because obviously she couldn’t talk very well.

That did not stop me from interacting with her at all. I loved talking to her after school every day because she hated school (like I do) when she was younger. Also, she was full of cheerful personality and I just had a strong connection with her. I would hug her every day because I felt like she understood me when no one did.

I never want her to leave me.

Meanwhile my parents were too busy searching for a house loan to purchase a house for us to live in. I never knew how many times you will have to go up and down to see the “important” people and try to explain our plight and how we need a house because we were a family of 5 living in 4 different houses.

How wonderful, right? Maybe we can never live together as a family ever again.Only He knows…

~ Author's Note:

I love every single one of you reading this! <3 Sometimes, i just feel like giving up on updating this story of mine but you guys make me to open up that word document and start pouring my emotions out. I love you so much! x

Do leave a comment if you like my 'improved' style of writing *yipeee*

xoxo

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