"We were at my aunt's house
I was four
With the police knocking on the door.
Mom was crying on the couch
With her hands cupping her eyes,
Tears made a puddle as she cries.
Family hovering her
Shouting at me to leave
Locking me in a room
With my cousin who was two.
I got out,
My aunt begins to shout
My mom continues to pout,
While the police are on the phone
Trying to get ahold of my father.
The room goes silent as the phone speaks back
This voice mail box is full.
How could this be?
He clears his calls
'Cause he can't stand the fee.
We found him in the car-
Gone.
Who killed him?
Only he heart that held me through my toddler struggles.
Only the heart that told me that he loved me with all.
Only the heart that gave me life.
Gone."
My life hasn't been the same ever since the night my dad died, even though it's been 13 years. It may be because of my teenage years, and maybe I'm just over thinking it, but I know that I wouldn't be the person I am today if it weren't for this tragedy.
At the age of four, I didn't get what death was. My mom explained it to me as soda and the can. When the liquid inside is gone, the can is left remaining, soulless.
Growing up without a stable father figure was-certainly- something else. Imagine your mom, every few months or years, bringing in a new guy to your life. Imaging being oblivious on to how their actions dictated your future, and scared the living shit out of you. I specifically remember one man named Richard that she dated for 2 years that no doubt abused us, but we were all so desperate to fill the hole we are missing in our hearts.
He ended up cheating on her in her own house while we were gone for an out-of-town lacrosse tourney.
Another dated her for her money, and ran off as soon as he got what he wanted.
My mom became an alcoholic, and a party animal. She was a vicious animal when she was drunk- hissing at us every chance she got- throwing inanimate objects as my sister and I screamed out in terror.
She would run off for hours, sometimes days, and I, a little girl, had to take care of my baby sister. And this explains why I don't want kids.
Luckily my mom sobered up in time for me when I was about to go into middle school, and she finally found a guy who treated her better than any other guy she has dated, comparable to the way my father treated her.
But because of this, I have trust issues, and I've been diagnosed with anxiety and depression since I was 9.
Fun right?
Well it doesn't stop there honey.
My name is Madeline Majewski, daughter of Kristen and Nate Majewski, sister of Megan Majewski. And oh, what an ugly life I've had.
