lost and found | it chapter one | 2017

Chapter 15 | Stop Grinning

My hands went up to my head as I pressed hard on my temples, making my eyes squint tight. I wanted to pass out. I heard my breathing in my ears, my heart in my throat. My lungs filling up with the past.

My dad.

     His face was clearer than the last memory I had of him.

    You know when you close your eyes so hard you can see different colours? Sometimes white, sometimes a lemon yellow and other times a darkened maroon or purple. I saw my dad, along with the trauma his rotten and unforgiving acts given me.

"Daddy!" I screamed with glee, running up to him as fast as my little legs could go. A small, cute, little half toothless smile on my face which would always make my dad melt was the one superpower I was given at the young age of four. I was an adorable kid.

   "How ya' doin', buttercup." He said, picking me up and flipping me around. I played with the collar of his shirt as we just laughed sweetly together, my mom leaning on the living room wall watching all of this happen with a smile on her face too.

My dad placed me down onto the messy hardwood flooring and walked into the kitchen as I attempted to follow. He took his hat off dramatically, throwing it onto the kitchen counter and walking to the fridge for a beer. He flipped it open and fell into one of the many ripped, stained chairs that we had.

"Rough day?" My mom asked only for my dad to looked up at her with deathly eyes.

"Shut up, Ronna." He replied sternly. I fiddled with my small little toddle thumbs, my big dream filled eyes watching all of this happening, confused.

"Excuse me?" My mom snapped back after a moment of silence. My dad shrugged, taking a long, hard sip of his drink and sighing exaggeratedly.

"Momma" I mumbled only to get harshly shushed and told to go to my room. My lips quivered slightly as I felt my eyes shine up, water filling them to the brim.

"Ronna I don't want to do this now-" my dad rolled his eyes, slamming his bottle on the kitchen table making a terrifyingly loud noise.

"Don't ever tell me to shut up in front of my child!" My mother yelled.

"Our child!" My dad corrected, getting up strongly. He inched way taller than my mom now that he was standing up, his rough grey stubbled beard in her eyes. She wasn't so tough anymore.

"Is it really your child?" My mom whispered.

She left that conversation with a bruise across her cheek.
   I was raised within a house of violence and betrayal. Although my parents would never and have never hit be physically, the tiring abuse I had witnessed made me tell myself I'd never allow myself to get stuck into such a situation.

   Meeting people who are important to me, like my new founded group of friends, has been the most life changing experience for me.

    Meeting Stanley, someone who genuinely enjoys my company and conversation, has allowed me to feel more confident in my tortured personality.

    I couldn't lose him yet. I couldn't lose any of them yet. Not even Richie... I knew the four-eyed comedian better than that. But something told me that the two of them were together; Richie had taken him. Not because Richie was evil, but because he wasn't Richie.