This is not a Sob Story.

Author’s Note: I wrote this memory/ story told to me by my mom, because I believe this is one of the most important moments in my life. It also gives you reasons to see why I am the way I am.

   I had no clue of what was to happen. I wasn’t a mind reader or a seer. I’m still not, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know something was wrong. Yeah sure, I was about five and wasn’t the brightest child, but when you only see your dad every other month and you saw him for the second time when you were three, it doesn’t take a baby genius to figure out that this wasn’t normal. The first time I saw my dad, I thought he was a girl. Well, I saw him once before when I was an infant, but I didn’t remember him so it doesn’t count. I still remember some things; though it’s very muddled, I can still get the gist of the memories.

   I was around five, and my dad had come to visit for the first time in a month. This was a little unusual for him to visit me. Normally he waits two months or so before coming over. I was perched on the edge of the cushy couch that sat against the far wall of the living room. I faced the window on the other side of the room. Upon my face was one expression of pure hope and eagerness. My mother was in the kitchen doing dishes since I couldn’t do them, and my aunt was sleeping in her room after her graveyard shift at her work. Then the home phone rang its shrill voice echoed throughout the house as if were the herald of the king pronouncing tragedy. Like a whip, my neck snapped towards the sound that dared break my concentration on the window. I frowned and turned my attention back to the window as my mom answered with a sigh. “ Yes, Will… No, she’s still sitting there……” She kept talking to my dad. I knew he would soon be right outside the house with his usual attire of a white v-neck shirt and black skinny jeans topped off with black boots. As I continued to stare I heard my mom’s voice rising in pitch. “ You do this every time! You say you’ll be at a certain time but then show up an hour after that! She can’t do this every time.” I spared her a glance. I didn’t really care about she was saying nor did I understand what she was talking about. My mom hung up and walked over. She then proceeded to sit down next to me and tell me that he was almost here. Her words fell upon deaf ears. My mind was running a hundred miles per second. He was almost here that meant I could see Brindy. I loved Brindy she was so cute and soft. Brindy was my dad’s dog, and every time he visited he’d bring her. My thoughts were interrupted by my dad pulling up in front of the house. I grinned and flew off my perch on the couch and ran into the kitchen to open the door for him. To my delight, I got there on time. In no time I was talking his ear off about little things. It didn’t even occur to me that I was being a little too eccentric.

   We went on a little trip to the movies and watched a film there. When we got home I was half asleep from all the excitement of the day. As usual, I begged him to stay with me. I fell asleep happier than I had been in months.

     I opened my eyes to the sad scene of an empty bed. The sun’s rays were like a spotlight that showed me the empty stage, but it didn’t show the audience the broken heart inside the main character. My tears flowed like Niagara falls, that’s what showed everyone the shattered pieces inside. I felt as if I’d been set on fire. Every part of me wanted to scream out and wonder at the world as to what I ever did to deserve this. After my existential crisis, I walked out of my suffocating room. I clung to my white blanket Linus style minus the thumb sucking. That day my mom had made chocolate chip pancakes to cheer me up. It didn’t work I barely touched them. I then thought about yesterday’s events and every other time dad came over. I felt as if I had been watching reruns of Sesame Street. It was the same thing over and over again. I realized Every time he’d come over it’d go like this, I’d sit on the couch eager and in anticipation for him to get there. He would then call my mom at the time he said he’d be there at and tell her was a half hour away. Mom would then yell at him, I’d still be sitting there lonely and hoping about the littlest things. He’d finally show up we’d leave watch a movie, eat something then we'd be back by eight. I’d be put to bed and would beg him to stay. He always did, or at least he did until I was fast asleep then he’d slip out like a thief in the night. My eyebrows furrowed in thought. Did he even care about me? All sorts of these type of questions flew around in my head and some of them shot me in the heart with flaming, barbed arrows with a longbow. It hurt the pain was immeasurable. I didn’t know what to feel so I just sat down and cried. I was depressed for a week.  After my phase, I came back to one thing. He would never stay with us for good, so what was the use of crying? I decided to give up crying until I found something worth crying my heart out for, or until I finally broke. I wasn’t gonna let one minor thing that happened to more people than you realize, to get to me. My situation was really good compared to some other people experiences. One night after this happened and I finally faced the truth head-on, I sat on my bed and smiled. I thought one last thing before I drifted off. Whatever happens in my future I’d wear that smile fake or not. I’d make people believe that I was alright or else I would break and I didn’t want to pick up the pieces. I finally fell asleep after all it was my bedtime. I learned later on my mom had checked on me later that night and had seen my smile upon my face but that smile wasn’t a smile it was a grimace and if my mom had been there earlier she would have seen a smile that could’ve fooled the devil.

I’m good now and I haven’t stopped smiling and telling jokes and overall being annoying but that’s me. The girl who never stops being silly and reckless unless it comes to literature then she is as serious as a saint. I believe in myself and that’s what matters most to me.