"Today, however can change things for better or worse. The outcome depends on you."
When a marriage fails the residue trickles down to everyone in the family. Sixteen-year-old Daya Nicole Johnston must fight to understand what is happening in her li...
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Day Four - December 6, Thursday
Dear dad, am I being fair? I think that because of your actions I am unjustly accusing all men of being the exact same. I can't trust them. They make big shiny promises and make you feel safe for only a moment's notice.
Because, once you think they want to help you, that they want to love you, they take all of that away. They leave you wondering, what did I do wrong? Is this my fault? Sometimes they can even make you believe things that aren't true like, he will take care of me. It's my fault though. If this is what love looks like, I do not want any of that, not anymore.
Alternatively, are you ruining me, dad? Is it possible that I could go the rest of my life viewing the opposite sex that way because you decided that you could not keep your promises? What a terrible life that would be for me. And guess who I would blame for that.
I awoke for the second night in a row wrapped up in my mother's arms. She was warm, but not like she had a fever warm. More like a cozy, I am giving you all my body heat, so I can make sure you are okay, type of warm.
She believed that it was her sole duty in life to take care of her children. I wish that taking care of us wasn't such a stressful thing in her life, but I could not be more grateful for all that she has done for me, even when I feel undeserving.
There is no denying that woman's love, not just for us but everyone. I aspire to be able to possess her qualities.
Looking over at her, I could see the worry lines splattered across her forehead, and her bob style blonde hair was a mess. Her mouth was frowning and even though she was still asleep, her dire mood was tangible through the air between us.
I felt my eyes becoming misty as I snuggled closer to her. If I did not know any better, I would say that she squeezed my back softly.
A few minutes went by as I brought myself closer to falling back to sleep, then I heard my door creak. My body was turned away from the door, my breathing quickened, and I assumed the worst as I tried to calm myself down and pretend to be asleep at the same time.
Falling asleep can be proven difficult for me sometimes, but pretending to be asleep, well that isn't a skill I'm a pro at either. Especially, with having anxiety, I just feel that everyone is going to know that I am faking it and I will just embarrass myself.
"Day, mom, are... are you up?" I knew it was my brother whispering from the second I heard the first syllable.
Slowly, I peeked my head up from my mom's shoulder and tried to untangle myself from her embrace without waking her.
After a few seconds, I irreversibly got in a sitting position and tried to balance my weight, so the bed wouldn't squeak as I got out of it and edged towards the door. When I crossed the barrier from my room to the hallway, I inaudibly closed the door behind us.
