Finding Home (Zak Bagans Daughter)

Chapter One

It's always been so funny to me how life never turns out the way we plan it. When we're kids we want to be cops, firefighters, astronauts; maybe even the occasional rocket scientist. At the time we truly believed that we would be something great. We all believed that whatever life had in store we wouldn't be afraid, and we would face it. No one would've guessed our great and cheerful quarterback would go to a party one night and never come home, only for his mother to learn he made the fateful decision to get behind the wheel when he had four too many drinks; or when one of the smartest girls in the school would experience something so horrific in her life her only option was to take her own life in the middle of the night. Even I couldn't even guess that one day my only best friend would decide it would be safe to walk on to a frozen pond in early spring; only to be found a few months later, still wearing her pink fuzzy slippers.

They always say, "Your first is the worst.", and they were not wrong. I may have only been a child when I lost my stepfather in a car accident when I was a baby, but the most traumatic things seem to leave the biggest imprint on your life, no matter how small one is.

My entire life had been surrounded by death. My friends, my peers, and my family. So it seems only fitting to see where the path of my future laid its way.

Before I even knew what my future was about the throw before me, my life was relatively normal. It wasn't your typical cereal for breakfast or your mom says "I love you" before you head out to school normal, but it was my normal. Kind of, sort of, not really.

The last day before everything went to shit, I got ready for school, made of a cup of coffee, and locked the door behind me, ready to face my consequences for cheating on the last math exam. I passed my landlord on the way down, where he gave me his usual slimy grin which always made my skin crawl.

"Your mom in today?" he hinted.

I rolled my eyes and gave him a glare. "Watch yourself there Pete, I wouldn't want you to think she only she only has eyes for a grease ball such as yourself."

He returned my glare and began making his way toward me until we stood face to face. "You know what she told me once?" he smirked, "she couldn't give less of a shit about you, she never wanted you, you do know that right?"

My nostrils flared. Of course, I knew that. I didn't want her as a mother either, but here we were. A nothing mother raising a nothing daughter.

"And you know what she told me?" I raised my hand a put my thumb and index very, very close to each other in front of his dirty face.

His throat let out a small growl, which let me know it was my time to leave. I smiled and walked away making sure to repeat my gesture before the door shut behind me.

I hoped on the first city bus on my route, along with a young girl and her father. He wiped of the seat before she sat down, and made sure she was okay before sitting down beside her. The entire ride he told her stories and they laughed. I could feel the corners of my mouth turning upwards, and a small spark of jealousy burn in my stomach.

I never knew much about my real dad. My mother has always told me the same story. They dated for a while, she got pregnant, and he left. She never saw him again. Sometimes she excuses it, saying her doesn't blame him, followed by a "he was so young, he could never be a good dad; a real dad." The real shocker was she could never be a good mom either, she never was.

When I was young I always imagined having this amazing father. Every night I would look out my shitty bedroom window and wonder what he was doing. Was he fighting the bad guys? Rescuing damsels in distress? I always dreamed of my dad, a hero, one day finding me and coming to rescue me from my miserable life, but of course he never came. Perhaps he was just too busy being some other little girl's hero.