summer child | ashton irwin

One

One

March 31, 2022

4:37pm

Los Angeles, California

Sage

I tied my hair back as my friends and I walked through the park, drinking our afternoon smoothies, "Technically Anakin wasn't completely wrong,"

"He murdered children," Rachel gasped at Tristian.

"No one likes kids," he defended his point.

"You're not wrong there," Evan laughed.

"I don't think kids are that bad," I said as I took my smoothie back from Evan.

"Would you want one though?" Tristan questioned.

"No, I'm alright,"

"Exactly,"

"I love kids," Rachel smiled.

"We know, suburban lifestyle, marry a wealthy person, have five kids, blah, blah," Evan mocked, making Rachel smack him.

"Oh, whatever,"

"I'm living alone in the city, screw that shit," I scoffed as I took a sip of my smoothie to cool myself down.

"Same," Tristan agreed.

"Your family trauma is showing," Evan sang.

"Would you like to hear about it?"

"Enlighten us,"

"Divorced parents, dad lives in Ohio, never see him, step dad is annoying, step siblings suck," Tristian listed off.

"Forgetting anything?" Rachel questioned.

"Oh yeah, and now my mom is pregnant with twins," he rolled his eyes.

"It's easy for you to go out at least, there are six other kids in the house," Evan shrugged and Tristian nodded.

"Sage, wanna enlighten us?"

"No, I'm alright," I chuckled.

"What time do you have to be home?" Rachel asked.

"Five," I answered. "I have to pack for my moms tomorrow,"

"We should start heading back then," she told us. We nodded and made a turn down the path. As the sun hit us in the face, I squinted, trying to block it with my sweatshirt sleeves that went to my fingertips.

Once we made it off the trail, we walked to our houses, eventually all going our own ways to get home. The farther I walked, the more worried I got about how my dad would act at home. When I went into my house, my father was passed out on the couch. I held my breath as I quietly walked past him, then slipped up the steps, feeling relief was over my body. In my room, I was safe and away from him.

At times, I wish I lived with my mom, but she lost the custody battle. Not that living with her would be amazing, but I knew I wouldn't be living in fear of what she could do. That was the difference between my parents. Neither of them cared about me, but my dad took his anger out on me while my mom just ignored my presence as a whole.
The only time she showed interest when I visited for the one weekend a month was if her boyfriend or friends were there. If they were there, she showered me with affection to make herself look good. But no one knew the real her, except me.

Before I could start packing, I went and took a quick cold shower. When I removed my sweatshirt, I sighed as I stared at my arms, seeing all the bruises up them. The only way I could hide them was with long sleeves, no matter what temperature it was. I was numb to lying to all my friends about it. I could think on my feet quickly for an excuse, and everyone believed it. To everyone, it became a running joke that I wore sweatshirts in summer. The reality was much different though, and no one could find out.