Just one more time. Please. Just one more smile. One more real smile. One of those that used to make me smile right back at you. I have not seen one of those in years. It has almost been a decade since you left me. Just two more years then it would be a decade. Almost ten years.
One more laugh. Do you remember those? The ones where you would tickle my stomach and both you and I would laugh? I miss those times. I'm too old now to have those type of fun times. The only thing I have left of those times are the memories. The only memory that I really enjoy of us is kindergarten when you drove me to school, I would ride in the front seat (thank you for that by the way), and we would listen to a song by the Black Eyed Peas.
Did we ever figure out what the name that song was? That was ten years ago.
Who ever though that in a year my life would change.
I still remember what happened that day: it is a silent, black and white movie playing over and over again in my head. I walk out of my room in a jumbo t-shirt and underwear and I see a lady sitting on the couch. Never have seen her before. My mom pushes me back into the bedroom with tears on her face. What is going on?
Two months later you pop back up. I'm living at my grandpa's with my mom. You are married to that girl now. Two months following the pop up: we are driving back to your house (my old house that you share with that girl). You stop at a gas station and she tries to converse with me. By this time I am mute and she is a witch (try rhyming that with another word). When you get back into the car, a war starts.
I do not remember what exactly happened, I just remember the aftermath. The slap still rings in my ears till this day. The witch slapped you right in front of me. I had wish that you and other women were over with but this world is not a wish granting factory.
You disappeared again. Not two months this time, a year. And you brought home another girl with you. Eighteen. Really? This lady was closer to my age than yours. Eleven years apart; nine years apart. I liked this one. This one was nice; nicer than the other one. Probably because she acted like she was my sister.
Fast forward five years.
You are now married to her. She was more mature than the other one. She is now in a wheel chair. Medical condition. Every time I see her, she is in that wheel chair. I get irritated with her. Anything she does can set me off. I just bottle up my anger. I'm shocked that the straw has not broke the camel's back yet.
Thanksgiving evening, Jody is over, helping you fix something. She (now an alcholic, you told me so do not deny it) rolls into the kitchen and asks you to go into the car and get the beer. The lights are out, I'm working on the lap top while my phone is blaring songs that are on shuffle just to have some background music.
Soon an agrument started and I blocked you two out (since it happens all the time), until I heard a slap. You said 'do not slap me in front of my daughter.' I never saw it. The fighting continued until I just screamed 'shut up *insert her name here.* That resulted her in saying 'Fuck you, Lina.' She used the nickname that you and my mom gave me.
That name is only reserved for you and my mom. She has no right to call me by that name.
You told me to go next door. I got out of my seat, shoved my phone on my back pocket and ran out of the house. As soon as that door closed, I broke down. I have no idea where it came from, it just happened.
In my back pocket, my phone was still playing. Guess what song. Breakeven.
One year later.
We were allowed to listen in Biology. It was a week before thanksgiving. I had noticed that you had texted me. You asked me when were you picking me up and if my mom could meet you half way. I told her the dates that she could not. I do not know what happened on your end but you started to send angry texts to me.
