Flight risk. [h.s]

005.

TW- this is a heavy chapter. themes include 

- drug abuse 
-sexual assault 
-documentation of sexual assault 
-vomitting 
-alcohol abuse

please don't read this if any of these could harm your mental health, the next chapter will be a lot calmer <3 

★

I was the golden girl.

I was the child that made miracles happen when a camera was residing on her innocent little face.

At the age of only eight years old, I burnt so brightly like the fucking sun. I demanded attention, captivated audiences and delivered lines better than some experienced actors far older than me.

But that was what was expected of me. It was enforced from a young age that I strive for greatness and above all else, perfection.

My parents, my mum and my dad mainly but even my grandmother, all expected me to somehow pioneer wings made solely from the finest gold and still somehow stay in flight while soaring through the sky.

It was demanded that I work harder than everyone else, that I thrive, that I fight and that I give up my childhood to make everyone proud. There wasn't another choice to it, there was only that one singular option.

Greatness or nothing.

I had this talent, I had this spark that other people saw in me before I was even old enough to establish my own little personality. The subtle push to begin moulding myself into someone who I am not entirely sure that I would have become had they not been so hard on me.

Like putty in their hands, I was created from the bottom up and formed into the daughter that they expected and longed for. Everything about me was strategically created and formed from nothing into everything that they wished they could be.

My parents were fulfilling their dreams through me. Building me into the person that they wish they got to become.

I can't really blame them for it either.

Having a child, I can't imagine how hard that is.

It is draining and terrifying from what I can tell, there is very little that makes parents proud besides greatness.

However, I was only eight when this all started for me.

That was the bottom line. I was eight years old and I was the sole provider for my family. I wasn't even in double digits yet and I was the only family member making an income and keeping everyone afloat.

Being eight is the height of childhood. I should have been dancing around in tutus and tiaras. I should have been rolling around in the grass outside, getting my clothes messy with dirt and grass strains as I crawled around to pick the prettiest flowers in the garden. I should have been using crayons and colouring in big pictures of my family or drawing on the driveway with giant chalk. Playing hopscotch and learning to ride my bike without stabilisers