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The Monster Inside Me
Only Memories
There wasn't really much to do after school. I had no friends. And even if I did, my mother wouldn't dare let me leave the house. She never trusted me. Which I found quite odd since I was always such an innocent child. I did well in school. I didn't talk back. And I always did what I was told. I was, in my opinion, everyone's puppet.
My family was going through a really tough time. My parents were getting divorced. All the time they'd fight. And half of the time, the police were called. When you're young you don't really understand much. I didn't understand why my parents always fought, I didn't understand why my mother never slept in the same bed with my father anymore, I didn't understand why my mother locked my dad out of the house or why he never came home. I never understood exactly what happened between them, and I don't think I ever will. I never knew what to make out of this situation. I was young, around nine. I was clueless. I began to believe this was the 'normal'. And I never really thought more of it.
In the beginnings of middle school I was surprised that I actually made friends. I was never really good at making new friends. I was always a loner. Plus, I wasn't so comfortable with the fact of communicating or associating with people. This, also, I never understood.
I met one of these kids named Nick. I met him through my neighbor, Jacob. Jacob and I were never really friend, friends. We just talked and hung out because we both didn't have any friends. We never got into anything personal. We just talked. Innocent, simple talking. Nothing more. That's why I wouldn't categorize him as a friend. He was more of an acquaintance, I suppose.
Nick quickly turned into a best friend. We were on the same bus, so it was easy to develop that relationship with him. This was also around the time my parents divorce had been finalized and my dad took all of his stuff, and moved out. Even though we didn't have much of a relationship, my dad moving out was pretty devastating.
As seventh grade rolled around, the middle of middle school, my dad moved from his parents house forty-five minutes away, to a house a block away from my mothers. He says he did this in attempt to develop a relationship with my twin sister, Gabbie and I.
Over the course of our seventh grade year, our relationship with our father became less like strangers and more into somewhat of a daughter-father relationship. It wasn't strong, we weren't close. But I finally started to feel like I had a father.
My family was going through a really tough time. My parents were getting divorced. All the time they'd fight. And half of the time, the police were called. When you're young you don't really understand much. I didn't understand why my parents always fought, I didn't understand why my mother never slept in the same bed with my father anymore, I didn't understand why my mother locked my dad out of the house or why he never came home. I never understood exactly what happened between them, and I don't think I ever will. I never knew what to make out of this situation. I was young, around nine. I was clueless. I began to believe this was the 'normal'. And I never really thought more of it.
In the beginnings of middle school I was surprised that I actually made friends. I was never really good at making new friends. I was always a loner. Plus, I wasn't so comfortable with the fact of communicating or associating with people. This, also, I never understood.
I met one of these kids named Nick. I met him through my neighbor, Jacob. Jacob and I were never really friend, friends. We just talked and hung out because we both didn't have any friends. We never got into anything personal. We just talked. Innocent, simple talking. Nothing more. That's why I wouldn't categorize him as a friend. He was more of an acquaintance, I suppose.
Nick quickly turned into a best friend. We were on the same bus, so it was easy to develop that relationship with him. This was also around the time my parents divorce had been finalized and my dad took all of his stuff, and moved out. Even though we didn't have much of a relationship, my dad moving out was pretty devastating.
As seventh grade rolled around, the middle of middle school, my dad moved from his parents house forty-five minutes away, to a house a block away from my mothers. He says he did this in attempt to develop a relationship with my twin sister, Gabbie and I.
Over the course of our seventh grade year, our relationship with our father became less like strangers and more into somewhat of a daughter-father relationship. It wasn't strong, we weren't close. But I finally started to feel like I had a father.