2013

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2013

It was in my sixteenth birthday I knew that I, Jasper Dach, was fucking crazy.

I was on the roof, my eyes rolled up to my forehead as I simply took tobacco smoke into my mouth and then releasing it. I brought the pipe to my mouth again and did the same. It was Luke's present for me that day before he moved out of town. He was the only one who remembered my birthday.

I didn't fucking care, anyway.

My dad had received a call from the third school I've transferred to. They told him I wasn't assisting lectures, so he had beaten me two hours before. Each punch and kick were becoming nothing, I could even sleep if he'd let me while he beat me. He didn't affect me anymore, not when I had something to smoke and become slightly buzzed.

A red car arrived, and I hid my pipe. I got back down and brushed my teeth. I soaked myself in my cologne just in case if I had receive the visitor. My parents fought, and had been acting unstable that evening, for little things. Neighbors complained, some even sat outside of their house to hear them fight.

We all heard a doorbell.

"Aren't you going to get that?" My dad looked at me.

I opened it, a beautiful redhead stood with a tight black dress that marked her curves. She was wearing heels, so she was taller than me. Boobs were sandwiched together and if I didn't look away in that moment, a groin was going to be obviously spotted.

"Who are you, beautiful?"

She pursed her red lips, and I noticed a freckle close to her upper lip. She was around her twenties.

"Rebecca?"

Dad's voice was heard even though it was in a whisper.

"Who is she?" My mother asked.

"May I come in?" Rebecca's grey eyes met mine.

"I don't know," I said to her, leaning back against the door, "I think I won't handle myself, baby girl."

"Jasper go upstairs."

He said upstairs, not to my bedroom. So I stood upstairs, only because she had a figure better than any art.

"She's Rebecca, my colleague. We work together at the fabric, heh." Dad scratched the back of his neck.

"Why are you here?" My mother asked.

"I'm pregnant." Rebecca said, firmly. "It's your husband's."

"No, this is a joke." Mum shook her head.

"Your husband and I have been together for over a year," she looks away, swallowing. "I'm having a baby with him."

Dad looked shocked, "That baby isn't mine."

"It is," Rebecca said and my mother was on the floor.

It was not long until my mother tried to kill the redhead and my dad slapped her until she calmed down.

He picked his stuff and promised he wasn't going to come back again because he loved Rebecca and he didn't love us.

My mum cried, cried, cried, and screamed as she watched my father drive away with Rebecca.

Neighbors were watching with amusement and even recording. I took my mother back inside and left her in her bedroom which she didn't leave for months.

It made me angry.

Angry at my father,

Angry at Rebecca,

Angry at the baby,

Angry that it happened on my birthday,

Angry that Luke left,

Angry that my mother was weak,

Angry at myself because I couldn't do anything.

____

My mother was working on a plan to move. But we didn't have money. She had dyed her hair red and bought herself clothes thinking it would make her look younger, but when she realized she wasn't as beautiful as Rebecca, she dyed her hair brown, then got a haircut and started dressing like an ancient woman, even though she was around her forties.

We had sold almost all the furniture from the living room for money, but it wasn't enough. My mother was desperate and she stayed for another few months inside her bedroom.

____

I couldn't find a job, neither my mother. She started having heart problems and she couldn't afford anything. I had no options left, except the only thing I was good at. Robbing. I started robbing stores, gas station and even old ladies in the train. I told my mother I had gotten a part time job and she believed me - like she believed that my dad loved her. Ouch.

I was amazed at how perfect this was going.
I went to a gas station (that I had robbed many times) to get myself a box of cigarettes. I grabbed a pack and pushed it inside my pocket.

When I went outside, I noticed a motorcycle parked in front of my scooter. I started inspecting the motorbike, tracing my fingers over the leather seat. I didn't have much money to get myself one.

"You know, you have to be careful when you steal. There's always a camera watching you."

A familiar man sat on the motorcycle, and I stared at him. I recognized him quickly.
H.

"Cool motorbike." I told him.

"I know," He put his helmet on.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked him.

"Of course," he said, "You're a lame ass guy that rides scooters."

He speeded away. What a fucking asshole.

No, H... that wasn't it.

____

I had remembered exactly the way to the building where I could speak to H. When I stepped in, as I had more knowledge, I knew that that was a crack house. So I asked for a job. And I got it.

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