Life could be better… Part 1

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’ve been better.”

I honestly have been better, perhaps a long time ago, but it hasn’t gotten better at all.

I found out something I wish I never knew about in the first place. Maybe if I never knew about it, I wouldn’t have such a heavy force weighing down on my chest and shoulders. 

I found out my father has been cheating on my mother for about two years now. I was devastated, disgusted, ashamed, and above all: shitty.

He apparently has been seeing her since eons ago and met her through work. She’s a young, Vietnamese woman who just entered the workforce. Her name is Hannah. She’s shorter than me, (I’m 5’2), and has a short, black bobbed haircut with caramel highlights. 

I found out last Tuesday when I came home from school. I was supposed to stay after school to take an exam for a class I missed due to me seeing a guidance counselor on a different matter. I decided against staying after and apologized to my teacher and I told her I had to go home. I had a bad feeling as I boarded my bus home. The entire ride home I felt sick, it was some sort of sign of what was to come. I got off the bus and begun to walk towards my house which was quite the walk away from the bus stop. I unlocked my phone and opened the garage door using my phone. I closed the garage door and opened the main door to enter. 

It was dead quiet when I entered.

I took my shoes off and began to walk up the staircase to my room to place my stuff down. During all of this I was grounded and I assumed I was still getting the silent treatment, but I was wrong. I placed my stuff down and sat at my desk. My father, the one who grounded me, came up behind me and he was teary eyed. He hugged me, kissed my forehead, and walked out. I was beyond confused. My mother and father are conversing in their bedroom with the door closed. I assumed they were discussing my punishment once more. 

My younger sister arrived home an hour after me and came upstairs to greet my parents. They gave her a warm welcome, and then kicked her out of their room, to which I didn’t just hear talking but arguing. Arguing turned into screaming. I was scared, but I had to intervene.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, go do your homework and close the door behind you.”

I did as I was told. I closed the door and leaned against the door. I slid down and curled into a ball tying to listen to their conversation. Eventually the door opened and my mother called me and my sister into the room for my father to tell us something. He looked at us and turned away, hanging his head in shame. My mother then said:

“You have to tell them because I’m not going to explain after you’re gone.”

I looked at my mother confused, and my sister who is 4 years younger than looked even more baffled.

After you’re gone?” 

Then everything clicked. My father was leaving us because he did something terrible.

“What do you mean mommy?” Said my younger sister.

“You’re dad is leaving us.”

She broke into hysterical tears, she didn’t know why, but the thought of our father leaving was to great for her to handle. My father came to her and hugged her. I was confused. He let go of her and came towards me to hug me as well, but I took a step back and stared at him. 

“What did you do?” I asked.

He turned away from me and walked down the stairs and I heard him open the garage door below and drive off.

Don’t Touch

This kid in my class got his backpack opened and then, I offered, I’ll close your bag for you.

He replied with, “Ew no don’t touch my bag.”

I was trying to be nice.

All well! I wasn’t born to please everybody.

This really is starting to tick me off.

Yet another boring class 

Here I have another tale to tell.

It’s actually quite boring.

Another class in Algebra and I glanced over towards my left side and a boy shorter than me was staring at me.

I mouthed “what?”

And then he looked at another kid and back to me. 

He did that a couple of times.

The the friend that sits next to me says, oh he’s probably trying to say,” xxxx” likes you!

And I was like ha you must be joking.

He kept on doing that all throughout class I was so confused.

When class ended, I asked the him why he kept looking at me and this other kid.

He said,” I was just trying to confuse you,” and then, ” I was about to say ‘xxxx’ likes you that would have really confused you.”

And then came my friends teasing time.

There is this small little white lie I tell, and it’s that she has a shrine for all the guys she likes with candles and rose petals.

Just to freak the guys out, even though she really doesn’t like them.

I’m a shitty friend and she tolerates so much. 

That One Class

I hate math class.

I’m in honors algebra 2.

I look to my right and I see the window.

Just by looking outside I can smell the freshly cut grass.

When it rains I can just smell the rain against the asphalt. 

I look to my left and I see my friend of 3 years now. 

She tolerates me to such an extent that I’m surprised.

Today I played a dirty trick.

I feel really guilty about it too, but I just couldn’t stop laughing.

It was near the end of class.

We just learned lessons 1&2 of chapter 6.

She was putting away her stuff and began to bring out her water bottle.

That’s when a thought came to my head. 

A terrible thought, but deliciously delectable.

It’s so childish I cringe.

When she began to lift her water bottles to drink from.

A brand new unopened water bottle. 

I couldn’t stop myself.

I tipped her water bottle, spilling its contents onto her,the floor, and the school desk.

She was about to scream.

I couldn’t help it.

I told her to shut up, and processed to grab tissues to wipe the evidence.

The water made it appears as if she wet herself.

It was hilarious.

Luckily for her she didn’t have me in her next/last period of the day.

She’s like my best friend and she tolerates me better than anyone.

\(-.-\)

My father is a hypocrite.

He complains about everything and anything and he is never happy.

All he does is complain and complain while my mother endures all this. 

My mother works so hard, has two jobs and doesn’t even show fatigue. 

He complains about how his life was so hard when he was younger.

Yet honestly I’m sick of listening to the same stories.

“Are you giving me an attitude?”

He wants to have no emotion whatsoever and always be happy.

He punched trees to relief his “tantrums.”

I have to plaster a smile to make him happy.

I honestly think that he’s secretly a women who his on his period all the time.

His emotions change so quickly and it annoys me.

One moment he’ll be breaking and punching walls, and the next he’ll be hugging us.

He really had a problem.

I’m scared that my family might break apart.

Deep inside I know that if my mom were to leave my father wouldn’t give two shits about me or my sister. 

God forbid that to happen any time soon.

But I am greatful to him.

He was there a few times when I needed him, even if he acted like he doesn’t want to be there.

He called out to go to a silly graduation for me even though he would rather be working.

He cooks delicious food.

He even has a hilarious sense of humor.

I inherited his sarcasm. 

I don’t hate my dad.

The good out weighs that bad.

I’m just glad I have a father, regardless of the heartbreak he cause my mother.

Some kids don’t have fathers, or parents at all, or if they do some of those kids are being abused.

I’m glad I’m not. I’m happy with what I have. 

I love my family.