My parents are happily divorced♡♡

Ungrateful daughter

I still remember that faithful day I met my parents for the first time when I was 3 years old. The first thing that I felt when I saw them was indescribable affection and love, love for the two people called "my parents".

After my brief meeting with them where neither me nor my parents spoke a word. I was ushered into a room with my grandparents. I still remember, My grandfather, who was sitting in his chair smoking his cigar, and my grandmother who was sitting in the couch, looking at the magazine.

My grandparents had called me to remind me that while having dinner I must show my manners, speak only when spoken to, keep my head down and say to my parents that I have no intention of going back with them.

I did what they told me, I kept my manners, I spoke only when spoken to and I told them that I won't go with them but I couldn't keep myself from looking at them, over and over.

In my three year old memories I had remembered only two things that night, one was the nanny's beatings and the other my parents apperance. I didn't think I could ever forget my father's blonde hair and my mother's blue eyes, because those were the things that looked like mine and were proof that I was their daughter.

After that day, I met with them once every three months, everytime they came I had to meet them in the presence of either my grandparents or the nanny. I was not allowed to speak freely and was only allowed to reply to certain questions. I met them for 1 hour, and 2 when it was my birthday.

I wasn't happy with this routine but it was the best they could do but I was still happy non the less. This continued for 2 years and then one day my grandfather had a huge loss in business and they had to let go of many of the staff, excluding my nanny. They said that they were too old to look after me, and finally sent me to my parents ofcourse with my supervisor nanny.

The manshion they lived in was bigger than my grandparents and the staff they had was twice that of my grandparents. They gave me a nice room to stay in and we were spending our days like a family.

I was taken to my grandparents twice a week to spend time with them. My grandfather was always in his bed and my grandmother was always at his bedside. They asked me about my days at my parents and I was required to tell them everything.

Not even a month into this routine, my grandparents started criticizing the way my parents lived and told me to never be like them. Being a child, I believed them.

It started small, like me sometimes making not so nice comments about my parents lifestyle and appearance, but soon got out of hand as I did it every chance I got. I was told that I was doing the "right thing" by my grandparents and that "I was slowly bringing the family together". I was told that I had to act extra naughty and disrespectful in order to make my parents understand their ways.

My Father, was the nicer of the two and always listened to my rubbish, my mother on the other hand was a woman who took no shit from anybody and will gladly put me in my place if needed. Even tho my mother looked so close to snapping everytime I started speaking, she never raised her fist towards me. Maybe if she had I would've been less of a brat.

Then something unfortunate happened, my grandparents died. I was 8 at the time and was devestated. Soon after their death, my nanny left. With no-one to control me and my thoughts, I was free to speak with my parents anytime I wanted, I could now eat food I liked and finally go to school like other children my age.

My new found happiness didn't last long. My parents divorced soon after my grandparents death and moved to different houses. They sold all of their cars, mansions, villas and hotels. They went as far as too leave there respective businesses and started doing minimum wage jobes. It looked as if they had gone crazy.

They bought large houses right next to eachother in a quiet and calm neighborhood and after few years re-married to their wife and husbands. I also got atleast 3 step-siblings from both of these marriages.

I was furious. I was convinced that they did not love me anymore. I thought that they had always wanted me to live with my grandparents and never even liked me in the first place. I thought that they had 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 me to live the hellish nightmare at my grandparents house and would've had me dead if possible, so I decided that I will make sure they will never have a easy life ever again.

Even if my step-parants tried to bond with me I pushed them away. I consistently bullied my step-siblings and I always made a mess whenever I was at their houses. I made sure that they hated me, and they did, within 7 years they had grown to hate my guts. But no matter how far I went, I could never make my parents hate me.

I had planned to move out after I turned 18, but a cruel prank on both of my step-parants made them break up with my parents and I got kicked of the day before my 18th birthday.

I then lived on the streets for years. I went to jail multiple times and it took almost getting gang raped to make my head come to it's senses.

I then turned my life around, I got a job, bought my own apartment, went to therapy, got a cat, got a boyfriend who then later became my husband and then the father of my two kids and ofcourse my two boys, my sons who I would give the world to If possible.

Maybe it was getting to have my own sons. But now I could understand the actions of my parents and how much they had truly loved me. I then decided to apologise to all I have wronged inorder to face them again.

Some forgave me, some didn't and some even threw curses at me wishing that I suffer for the rest of my life. Overall I had decided to finally meet my parents after 30 years.

I found out that my mother had unfortunately died. I visited her grave and cried for hours, apologising in every breath I took. It broke my heart that I had become someone that she couldn't even look at even in her dying days. I hated myself.

When I went to visit my father, he was in devestating condition, he was in a hospital room, slowly dying from the cancer he had. I wanted to cry again but I held myself back. I couldn't even look at his face and ran out, vomiting in the nearest dustbin and hugging my knees in to my chest.

After I calmed down I slowly got up and drove towards my home, a million thoughts racing in my head. 'I was truly a ungrateful daughter' was my final thought when a large truck came towards me and hit my car's side, crushing me to death.

I closed my eyes, expecting to now be dead but to my surprise I woke up to my nanny informing me of the first meeting with my parents was taking place today.

[Ok so I have like 7 assignments due tomorrow and I gotta complete them today, the next update will be next Sunday. Bye 👋😎]