Half a life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about the past of a girl and her family.

Submitted: August 25, 2012

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Submitted: August 25, 2012

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I believe I’ve seen and heard a lot of things. I believe I’ve experienced things that have been both good and bad. Right now as I stare out the window, I can’t believe how people can become a happy family, how they can live happily ever after. Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps it is how I’ve been raised. I do not know anymore. I’m a daughter of a floor fitter. I’m only one out of five children, but I’m the oldest. All we children, except two, have different mothers. I’m the daughter of a Danish mother. A woman raised in a straight and old fashioned adoptive family where she never received love. This was probably the cause of the love I never got.

Shortly after I was born my mother grew lazy and my father decided to have a one night stand with another woman, resulting in another baby. She was my first little sister. My mum moved away and the other one treated him like trash. I recall a few times where I played with her, my oldest younger sister. She was never that tall and she was a little chubby. One day her mother forbade her from coming to our father’s place. For a long time nothing happened, I grew older. My mother found a man that she married. She didn’t love him, but he loved her and she needed a secure economy. Honestly I do not like that sort of marriage but he was a nice man. As a child I always tried to lead my father and mother back together. Perhaps it was just a natural reaction. Fathers and mothers should be together, right? Back then I don’t think I knew how much it must have hurt my step father. I remember once where I was told that my dad had come to our place half drunk and late to pick me up. My stepfather denied it. He told my father off and told him not to come if he couldn’t do his job as a father properly. After that he did get himself together. That man remained my stepfather for 11 years of my life. When I reached the age of 12 my mother had an affair with my father, not hiding it from my stepfather. Somehow I felt disgusted. It was like she needed an excuse to get away from him. After we moved I was alone, I still went to see him once in a while, only seeing how empty everything had become. Little did I know how this tearing feeling of loneliness would tear through my heart from then on.

My mother was now in a period of hate towards men. She dressed in black, started drinking and smoking. She also got a job for the first time in 11 years. After half a year she told me she broke down with stress and quit her job. When she didn’t work she was like a teenager locking herself in her room. I tried to talk with her, only to be told to go away. I was never good with people my age and being a victim of mocking I began feeling very lonely. The only friend I had back then said I was following her and wanted me to stop, pushing me further away. Being lonely is a terrible feeling. It’s like you don’t mean anything to anyone. You can still be lonely between a thousand people. Thus my depression started. I found a guy and started caring about how I looked. I didn’t love him, only used him as a support for the loneliness that was draining my soul. My mother and I started getting into fights and when she got drunk she told me for the first time how she was raped by her adoptive father and brother. At the end of that long winter my mother found a new man. She told me he seduced her with a hot shower. He pulled her out of her depression and with that mine began to loosen up as well.

At the same time my father found a new woman. He had many women during those 11 years but this one was different. She was African. I smiled when I greeted her. I accepted her, at least until she came to my room saying that she wanted to be my mother. I of course denied. I only visited my father once every second week and I wasn’t going to accept someone trying to take over the place of my mother. In return she started to threaten me, saying she would take my father away from me. From that day on I avoided her, even getting scolded because of that. That following spring my mother got married, and after a little more than a month my father’s girlfriend moved in at his place. A month later I found out she was pregnant and that was far from all I found out. She was an alcoholic. I turned 13 and moved school. This was a relatively good period in my life. I had some good friends and I enjoyed my school life. My sister was born in winter. Less than a week later her mother went drinking again. My sister grew up the first two years of her life with an alcoholic mother who brought her along when she drank or let her stay with my father. She’d take all their money and go drinking with her friends. After those two years passed she was finally thrown out. My sister stayed with my father and the following summer I had a huge argument with my mother. I moved to my father’s place. A few months later he looked at me. “You’ve gotten color now. You looked so starved before.” I had never noticed it myself before then. We didn’t have much money and the food wasn’t good, not to mentioned I had anorexia for a while before I came there. Finding out about that has frightened me slightly. Because I look so thin on those pictures but I always looked fat in the mirror and last time I looked at those pictures.

That following year was horrible, she sent threatening messages, said things uttered that should never be said to anyone. My mother and stepfather moved around that time, they wanted to live a better place. Less than a year later they moved again. About two years ago my father started talking with a woman over facebook. He was always on there when he didn’t work. He was more on there than an average teenager. I just smiled and prayed he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. The next summer he left me to go to the Philippines where he got married to her. In the fall she joined our family. Looking back I wonder how I will become in the future. Will I be like my father or my mother? Or will I be something else? I’m so tired of looking at people in their despair, complaining about their family problems that seem like nothing to me. I’m tired of looking at drunk people, and I’ve come to realize how much I started to dislike people, how little my trust has become towards those people around me. Almost two years has passed since she came here. They have a son now. He is my youngest brother. These are my four siblings. If you’re good you might actually have noticed the difference in the numbers. The last one belongs to the African woman. This is the one that makes me the most ashamed. My father had sex with her even though he threw her out. They had sex even though they were fighting about my sister. It reminds me of the human weakness and I just wanted to turn my head away and pretend it never happened. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand in the same way I don’t understand why 70 people would go to the hospital with clubs in their hands trying to beat up the police to kill a man inside the hospital. I don’t understand why someone would start shooting people at a batman movie. In the end I guess it’s our weakness and human insanity.

The present is both light and dark. My youngest brother is amazing, he’s sweet and he grows very fast. But my father is working. He doesn’t stop. He works and works until he comes home with red teary eyes, looking half dead. My step mother’s only wish is that he’d spend a little time with her but he doesn’t. Her visa is gone this week, if she doesn’t get it renewed it’s over, but she doesn’t want to leave without my brother. Talking with her about them talking about it I was shocked and scared to hear her say she’d kill him up there if she had to so she could bring him. It breaks my heart and I want to cry. My mother cut off all contact because of a fight about hair. If something should happen where am I to go? What am I to do? She met too late to get her picture because he didn’t bring her. I feel like the end is too near for me to comprehend but I fear what will happen if everything goes wrong. As I look out the window I look back on my past and I wonder what will happen from now on. Where will life lead me?


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