When With You

3

Despite living in this hell hole for so long I am happy, well as happy as I am allowed to be.

I came to Jackson City when I was the tiny age of eight, grandmother had just died and my mom told little kid me that we had to travel to America and bury grandma in a little unknown town where she was born. She promised that we would come back, but guess what? We are still here ten years later.

Anyway, my grandmother moved out of Jackson City when her college life had started. She was a wild one even till her last breath, apparently, my Italian grandfather liked the wild ones because after meeting her in just a year in New York, he fell in love and married her, living in New York with her until her studies ended.

Well, that was the plan but my mom was born two years later, grandmother pointed the middle the finger to education and America before the three of them moved to Italy, the place of my grandfather's birth.

Which, happened to also be the place of my father's birth too, because that's where my mom and dad grew up as best friends. At the age of twenty, they dated for two years, then got married a year later, the second year of their marriage Madison and I came out to say hi.

When Madison and I were born my parents lost it, in a good way, the most expensive of champagnes were popped and they had a huge meal to feed the whole of Italy. We lived our lives in Italy, happy but then my grandmother died.

I don't remember crying for her even though we were close, she always told me: "You shed tears for the living so they can see your pain. Crying for the dead is a waste." I didn't get it, I'm not sure I still do but that's how she was. Not even my mom cried in front of people but I do remember hearing her sobs through her bedroom door.

We were supposed to live in Jackson City for a week at most but we stayed for unknown reasons...okay that is a lie. One day, I met Peter Jung and I begged my parents for us to stay, completely forgetting about my best friends and grandfather in Italy.

After three years, Madi and I were eleven and four of us lived here happily, but then as life would have it, a tragedy happened. My mother went out with one of her colleagues, Keith Hood, and he either raped her or drugged her because the next thing we know mom and dad are having huge arguments, then they told us about my mother's 'affair'.

This ungodly action resulted in Micheal, my dad tried to treat him like his son, and it was going well. Michael became the baby of the house and he stole dad's heart and his love, but it got too much to handle when Keith kept on showing up, asking to see his son.

Mickey had just turned one when dad decided to leave us in the care of an unworthy father and my broken-hearted mom.

That's when things got worse. The town showed us their true colours.

Mickey's father promised to be there for his son no matter how bad the town slurs got, which was a lie, as soon as Mickey turned ten, Hood left with the dumbest excuse: "I'm not ready for this responsibility." After eating my mom's food, sitting on our couch so much that his ass print is still there, and using all my mom's hard-earned money.

He decided that he was done sucking all her strength and pretending to be a dad. My mother cried so badly that she didn't go to work for two weeks, which caused me to cancel my shifts from my secret job in a cafe.

The point of it all is that despite everything that has happened in the past ten years, I've never hated my baby sibling. Yes, he is half-blood but I can still look at him without seeing that virus, Hood.

Of course, Micheal's life wasn't easy either, he was born prematurely. Skipped two good months of the peaceful womb.

Usually, that wouldn't be a problem but considering the fact that we live in a dehumanizing town. He is a curse...to them. To my family, Michael Longwood is the most precious thing to happen to us. My dad said so.