Bash

~2~

CHAPTER 2: Flashbacks

That night when I fell asleep, I started having the most vivid dreams ever. I did not like how they were turning out. They weren't your average, everyday nightmare where you forgot your phone in class and everyone started reading your text messages. I mean my childhood. My childhood was not the best in the world. My father was always in debt to the bank and also to family friends. My mom didn't really care where I was and who I was with.

My dad was the best even with all of his debt. It made us realize what happiness can do when you have zero dollars to spend. Him and I would always go to cheap movies and walk around outside. Of course, that was only on the weekends when I could see him. My mother had me during the week, as part of the divorce, I spend the weekend with my dad and the week with my mom.

My mom on the other hand, was not really what you may call "Mother of the Year" material. Every time I went over to her house there was a party so I could never sleep, and my house smelt like pot all of the time as well. I hated staying there. Every time I went, I called my dad and asked to stay at his house. But he said no because my mom would have demanded more money from him if I stayed longer.

Later when December of 2010 hit my dad started to feel sick. He didn't look too good either. He went to the doctors to check himself out and the doctors told him that he had stage two liver cancer. I didn't know what to do, what to say or how to react to that kind of news. I was only 14 when I found out. All I wanted to do was cry my eyes out. I started staying with my mom on the weekends and it was a living nightmare to get any homework done with her yelling at me and yelling at her boyfriend. I would get my homework and ride my bike to a park near by me and do my homework there instead of at home. It wasn't even safe to call it home.

Soon March came and my dad was making great progress. I was happy I could stay with him again on the weekends. He was happy too, and my world felt completed with him back in my life. My mom was even nice enough to let me stay the whole week at his house to take care of him. It was honestly the greatest thing that could have happened. I'd catch the bus in the morning and, if my dad felt good, he'd text me saying he was going to pick me up from school. I was happy when he would do that. It made me think he was going to win the battle of cancer.

But when late March came, he was admitted into the hospital. He got horribly sick again and in pain- I didn't like seeing him in pain. All I remember was the last thing I told him.

"I promise I'll come to see you tomorrow. Until then, may God keep you safe. I love you daddy"

He smiled, it wasn't his normal happy smile. It was a sort of depressing smile. The smile you give to someone when you don't want them to start crying.

He said back to me, "I love you too June, I'll be here tomorrow for you."

I walked out in tears seeing him grab a notebook and a pen. He was writing something down but I didn't want to bother him. I said goodbye to him.

The next day after school, I walked to the hospital to visit my dad. When I went in, the door was wide open and I knew he made the night. But my mother, my uncle Vinny, and a lawyer were in the room.

I walked in to see that my dad was not there. Just a empty bed with his last words on paper. I fell onto the floor crying and screaming not wanting it to be real. That's when my life became a living hell.

That's when everything went completely downhill for me..

one and a half year later

I had a job now, it was also the end of the school year for me. The worst school year ever though. All of my friends left me that year. All of my teachers were worried about me. And no one left me alone on social media. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I was, I was getting hurt by others. The next year was worse, my depression was worse, I was all alone every night, and the cherry on top was my mom started beating me. No one believed me and my stories, but go figure. Who is gonna listen to the lonely girl that everyone could care less about.

That was the year I started cutting myself and forcing myself to not eat. Only one person noticed that. His name is Michael Clifford. A boy from Five Seconds of Summer. He saw the cuts on my arms one day and asked if I was okay. I started to sob and cried on his shoulder. All he did was hug me, and listen to my story. I had a friend who listened to me.

Did Michael consider me as a friend?

Was he my only friend?