Under The Influence

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This Is a True Story Of Mine, Was Hard To Write,

Hope You Enjoy,

Submitted: April 18, 2009

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Submitted: April 18, 2009

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UNDER THE INFLUENCE

Some things in life are just worth waiting for, other things are best forgotten. Its difficult to know precisely when these long awaited events will occur, but it’s usually worth it in the end.

She stood there beside the incubator looking down onto her recently born sister; her finger was clamped gently in between this new babies tiny fingers. This fifteen year old girl, smile visible on her face, stood motionless, pondering about how life was going to turn out amazing. Then she thought long and hard; long and hard to come to the realisation that she in fact, had a serious gut feeling about the future of this infant. The moment of guilt split suddenly when this baby girl opened her eyes for the first time to broadcast a beautiful blue shine of colour. She then gave an encouraging squeeze on the girls’ finger. The tear stricken girl smiled down on the baby with a glint of fear in her eyes. Encouragingly the baby took the time to smile back. It was as if the baby was reassuring her big sister, even at this age, that things were going to be just fine. A proud tear trickled out of the girls eye down onto the incubator. This girl was me.

. . .

Darcey was just developing a personality, the kind of personality that caught everybody’s attention when I took her out. She was adorable and absolutely perfect in my eyes. Nothing could make me doubt the tight relationship we had. Our bond was indestructible. I felt more than just a sibling; I felt maternal. Darcey to me was completely my own making. Some days, I had to take a step back to look at the bigger perspective. It was hard, but that’s the way it had to be. I hated when I had to sit and observe our Mum try to be a commendable parent. I hated the way she spoke to Darcey, with slurring words and disillusioned looks. What was Darcey going to learn from an unstable Mother, who indeed controlled her emotions through drink? I felt it my duty to go on protecting my little sisters’ blameless young self. Darcey needed a Mum, and the only option I saw, was me.

The days got harder and so did the drinking. I often found myself wondering why my two younger sisters and I had to put up with it. There had to be some hope out there. I grew tired of my sleepless nights, long days and hazardous weekends. I was constantly anticipating about what was going to happen next. What was she going to do this time? What was she planning? Would it be another failed suicide attempt which turned out pathetic? Or could it be one of those nights when she would knock herself out again with little Darcey in her arms? Or maybe it was going to be one of those nights, Where I had to push through the bedroom door, to move her motionless body just so I could retrieve crying Darcey?. These events where becoming repetitive and change had to happen; one way or another. I did have the option of moving out, and that is what everyone had advised, but I refused, I refused to leave my sisters behind; they needed me. Then one day it all came to blows. There was uproar of emotion, my mum and I clashed like never before. Despite the time being only around three in the afternoon, the women I called "Mum" was intoxicated; aggressively throwing meaningful hits at me with one hand, whilst her other hand was occupied by screaming Darcey. I took the hits, forcefully blanked the aggression out of my mind, and focused on how I would retain Darcey, without that is, injuring her in the process. This is why this life had to stop. It was too dangerous; it definitely had to come to an abrupt end. I packed my belongings, and at the age of 15… I left home.

Some weeks past and I struggled to carry on without Darcey. The world seemed so empty and desolate without her presence. I had no contact with my Mum and I didn’t plan on having contact either, as far as I was concerned my life was only going to get better without her, although, I was in great agony. I longed to be with nine month old Darcey, that is why it hit me so hard when I got that awaited phone call; it told me that she had in fact been taken from my Mum and placed into care. It was the pinnacle of my heartache. I learnt to get on with my life; I took one day at a time. The thought of Darcey was always predominant in my mind but I never let it get me down. If anything, it was a valuable lesson in my life, one that I will go on to cherish until my dying day. But as things stood now, I felt that I had done the right thing; as cowardly as it was. After all, there was always that hopeful chance that I would reunite with the baby Girl that I once called my own. There was always that chance, that when she grew older she would come looking for that young girl she once looked up to.

These thoughts ran across my mind as I stood beside the incubator looking down at my recently born daughter, my finger clamped gently in between this new babies tiny fingers’. I was now 23, Smile visible on my face, stood motionless, pondering about how life was going to turn out amazing. I thought long and hard, long and hard to realise that I was in fact nothing like my mum, "Yes" I thought, "Our life together is going to be just fine".

A proud tear trickled out of my eye down onto the incubator. My new baby girl opened her eyes for the first time to broadcast a beautiful blue shine of colour. And I’m thankful that this woman was me.

Like I once said, some things in life are just worth waiting for, other things best forgotten. It’s difficult to know precisely when these long awaited events will occur, but it’s definitely worth it in the end.


© Copyright 2020 KirstyLouise. All rights reserved.

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