When they arrived, my parents were in the front lawn, one sitting on top of the other in attempts to suffocate the other. I had run across the street to my friends house, where luckily I didn't have to stay very long because my grandma came to get me. They both went to separate rehabs while I was forced to live with my grandma for a year. Every night that I lived with my grandma, I cried myself to sleep. I wasn't in my bed, I wasn't at my house, and I wasn't with my parents. But the one thing that was mine was this sick and horribly twisted life, and I never forget that.
My parents were released after proving their "devotion" to staying clean, but that didn't last for long. At the end of 4th grade, my mom became an active user once again, and my dad filed for divorce. He moved out into my grandma's house, just like I did, and I spent every other week at each other their houses, until I eventually chose to stay permanently with my mom.
I remember that I used to sleep in bed with my mom to keep her company because she was so depressed. The rest comes in bits and pieces. Waking up in an empty bed. Finding her in the kitchen passed out on the table. Finding an empty pill bottle. Calling my dad screaming and crying. My dad taking the battery out of her car and driving away. Her running in front of the car, almost getting hit, trying to stop us. Going to someone's house to go swimming. Overhearing my dad say that I'll never live with my mom again. It was one of the scariest, and worst, days of my life.
After that, I began to distance myself from all my friends, and only found comfort in music or drawing. I was bullied a lot at school because I was the kid that chose to sit alone, even though my friends invited me to be with them. And, I wasn't quite the looker. I was overweight by at least 30 pounds, my hair was in a bob, and I didn't know how to dress at all. Other kids had no clue what was going on at home, so they would pick on me for what I wore or being such a loner, which only made matters worse.
My mom went back to rehab, meaning I had to live with my dad. He began to date again, and I became very attached to his new girlfriend, who loved me and was like a second mother. We did everything together, got pedicures, went shopping, the whole 9-yards. But, when my mom was released, I went to live with her again. And finally, things were steady.
My mom moved into the house that we currently live in, and even though things with her surpassed my expectations, I never really moved on. I've lived my life in fear that at any moment, things could potentially go back to how they were, and now that my dad had moved back to Miami, I wasn't going to have anywhere to go.
That's the main reason that my only friend is Chelsea, and I guess now Liam, too. After creating this huge distance between everyone and myself, I never learned to trust again, and people never changed their opinions on me. The one thing I did change about myself, however, is my appearance. My only goal was to be someone that I was proud of, not anyone else. So I saved up my money and bought myself a little home gym. I worked out every single day until I got to where I wanted to be. I watched what I ate, being very cautious as to what I put into my body. I was an extremely difficult process, but it was definitely worth it.
"Honey, how did it go?" my mom asked me, breaking my out of my horrifying trance. "Actually, pretty well. Or so I've been told," I responded, seriously not remembering anything other than the mystery man and Liam's boner. I giggled to myself.
"When do you find out if you made it?"
"Hopefully tonight."
"I have an idea, why don't you invite Liam over? I'm making spaghetti, your favorite."
"Sounds great. Thank you mommy."
I walked over to her, and she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me in to sit on her lap. I tried to hold myself as much as I could, applying all of my body weight to my feet.
Chapter 4
Start from the beginning
